Wild Waves, Wicked Women
by jade-fae
Summary: The sea, like a woman, is beautiful to behold. Beautiful, but dangerous. The waves are wild, the women wicked, in this sequel to 'Powers that be'. Yo ho ho, and away we go.
1. Prologue

Wild Waves, Wicked Women  
Prologue

…

His first sense was motion. A gentle rocking like the back and forth of one's infant cradle. Then warmth, such warmth. It was at once soft and smooth yet also like silken fur. The pleasant contrast was none the less perplexing and dragged him out of blissful slumber.

A waking groan, lashes fluttering, and he woke. Mind lost in fog, he looked around the room, unsure where he was. It was small, but too rustic to be Privet Drive. The wooden walls and lack of roommates made it clear he was not at Hogwarts and the lack of permeating gloom quickly ruled out Grimmauld Place.

"Where am I?" he mumbled, trying to reach up to rub his face only to find his arm otherwise engaged.

It was only then that he noticed the head on the pillow next to him. The shaven head did nothing to detract from her porcelain beauty, thick eyelashes and pouty pink lips made his mouth go dry.

A few cogs started turning, time, place, and circumstance returned, all of which seemed inconsequential compared to the fact he was in bed, with a woman, a naked woman if the information his arm was relaying to his brain was accurate.

A faint memory of certain, activities, made him blush, but just as he was beginning to think he knew what was going on, a soft "mew" and a nuzzling at his other shoulder threw his understanding right out the window.

Cat ears flicked in that cute way they do but the face, while possessing a few feline touches, was all woman, and a familiar one at that. She too had a firm grip on one arm, her silky soft fur caressing his skin while patches of bare flesh sent lightning racing up his spine.

What the hell happened last night?

He remembered his encounter with Sorsha. Vaguely recalled exchanging words with Vargas afterward, but past that, nothing. Certainly nothing that would explain his current position, sandwiched between two beautiful, naked women.

Did he? Did they? It was almost too much to even contemplate. His complete lack of sexual experience left him baffled as to how he would have even arranged such a rendezvous.

As he lay there pondering his predicament the deliciously warm body on his right stirred. Thick eyelashes fluttered open and pouty pink lips parted in the biggest cutest yawn.

In some corner of his mind he knew it was rude to stare, or so he'd been told, yet the delicate angelic features were even more enrapturing while in motion, he just couldn't look away. The wicked little smile that stole across her lips suggested she was not the least displeased.

"Good morning," she cooed, sliding up the short distance to his lips for a quick good morning kiss.

The unaccustomed physical contact made his brain go all fuzzy and by the time he was beginning to regain his ability to speak, he was further distracted by a nose nuzzling his check.

"Good morning," said the chirpy feline, being less subtle with her affection and peppering his face with kisses.

Sorsha chuckled while Harry weathered the loving assault till Meryl was satisfied she'd gotten every inch.

No longer under affectionate attack he took a moment to collect his thoughts as he gazed at the two females who looked back expectantly, waiting for him speak. So many things he could have said, so many things he wanted to ask. Where are my glasses, and what happened last night? One question however took precedence over all others.

"Was I good?"

He wasn't sure how to interpret the looks of shock. Sadly, he was pretty sure how to interpret the laughter.

"So, that's a no?"

This only made them laugh harder. Definitely a no.


	2. Chapter 01

Wild Waves, Wicked Women  
Chapter 01

…

Salt, he'd never known it had such a pungent odor till he went to sea. And never had it been more apparent than when the fog lay all around them, heavy and thick as peanut butter, or pea soup if you prefer.

The world around him was naught but clouds, all dark and gray. He could hear the water gently lapping at the side of the ship but even if he strained, looking over the rail, he could not see past the gloomy veil.

"Careful, unless you want to go for a swim."

Hauling himself off the rail, Ron found his friend emerging from the fog like a ghost, "Harry! Your alive."

"Should I not be?"

Ron smiled as his friend came to lean against the rail next to him, "Heard you got struck by lightning."

"Oh yeah?"

"And then threw it at a sea dragon, whatever that is."

"Is that what happened?"

The perplexed expression on his friend's face had Ron concerned, "You don't remember?"

Harry shook his head, "Not a thing," he said. "So, imagine my surprise to wake up in bed with two naked women and no idea how I got there."

Ron gaped, "Two of 'em?"

"Uh huh."

"Naked?"

"Yep."

"Bastard!"

Harry laughed uproariously at the accusation, "Yeah, well, that was what I thought. Turns out nothing of the sort happened, I was just so out of it they decided to sandwich me, so I didn't catch a cold or fall out of bed."

"Yeah, I'm so sure," Ron grumbled.

Harry smirked, "Jealous?"

"Yah!"

Both had a laugh over that. Ron knew it was childish to resent his friends good fortune but dammit, two at the same time.

"Speaking of last night, where were you during this, sea dragon attack?" asked Harry.

Ron grimaced in embarrassment, turning his head to show Harry the new knob on the back.

"Ouch."

"Tell me about it." It still hurt.

"How'd that happen?"

"I was at the end of a losing streak when they called for us. I was so excited I rushed to get my gear when the ship decided to throw me across the room. I woke up, they told me it was over, and you'd saved us all."

"Sounds familiar," said Harry. "Can't really remember that one either." Ron chuckled and Harry grinned, "Where's Francis."

"Down here," said Ron, nudging something with his foot which gave a soft snort in response.

"Oh good. I'm sure Hedwig will be glad her minion was taken care of when she gets back from wherever she is."

"You're sure," said Ron, much less confident in seeing the owl again. "That storm was really bad and we're a long way from land."

"You sure about that?" Harry countered, gazing out into the gray abyss.

Ron shrugged, "Technically no."

"Technically?"

Before they could start debating technicalities, their conversation was interrupted by the sound of water, something falling into or leaping out of it, "You hear that?"

Harry nodded, "Where was it? I can't tell in this damn fog."

Neither could Ron, "You think someone fell in?"

"Who else is out here?"

Who could say? Ron could barely see three feet past his own nose and the ship was much wider than three feet, "Think we should check it out?"

"Probly aughta," said Harry.

Cautiously they began shuffling across the deck, spreading apart as they went. He'd already lost sight of his dark-haired friend by the time he passed the mast, but Ron wasn't worried, he could still hear him. And it wasn't like he really needed to worry about Harry anyway. Didn't matter what you threw at him, he'd always manage to bounce back. Resilient kinda guy.

Good thing too or Ron would have been out one best mate a long time ago. There was just something about Harry that attracted trouble, which would explain why Malfoy was always hovering around him. That guy was nothing but trouble.

"Harry, you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here," he called back.

"here."

"Huh?" Was that an echo?

"Here," it came again.

"Hello. Where are you?" he fumbled around in the direction he thought the voice had come from. He wasn't sure what it was but there was something strange about it. It didn't sound like anyone he knew, and it was definitely feminine, "Hello?"

"Here," she called again, sending a tingle down his spine and up, certain other parts.

A vague form appeared in the fog which clarified into a silhouette as he stumbled closer. Details obscured slowly revealed themselves. Long blonde hair clinging wet to pale naked skin. Her head turned coyly, eyelashes fluttering, making his heart reply in kind.

"Uh, um, he… hello," he said, tripping over his own tongue as the higher functions of his brain went on standby.

"Hello," she said, the word oozing between her lips like honey, thick and sweet.

Coherent thought was becoming harder and harder, which made it the second thing to do so. He wanted to say something, something clever, something that would impress. He opened his mouth but all that came out was an inarticulate mess. Not what he'd been hoping for.

To his surprise she wasn't put off but laughed sweetly at his bumbling mouth. The sound of it was like tiny bells that set his ardor to boiling. Something had to happen soon, or he was going to lose his mind.

She made a come-hither gesture and he was quick to obey, but just as he came within arm's reach of the sweet piece of divinity something swooped out of the fog. A flash of talons was his only warning before it zipped past, knocking him on his ass.

"What the hell!"

His exclamation was followed by a loud splash. The flashing talons that had startled him came back around and perched herself on the rail, looking down at him like a queen considering a particularly lowly subject.

"Hedwig!" he shouted. "What'd you do that for."

Ron couldn't understand the owl like Harry did. Nor could he convincingly fake it, like Harry did, so he ignored whatever she was trying to say with her bobbing and flapping and scurried back up to the rail, looking for his angel.

Peering into the murky dark he didn't find her, but something found him. It leapt from the fog like a striking scorpion, wrapping around his head before he could more than blink. Reflexively he tore at the thing, jerking and flailing to no avail. Worse, while he struggled for freedom something began to reel in its catch.

The hard jerk caught him completely unprepared and he sailed through the air, over the rail, headed for the water. Something heavy tackled him and the strain between his face and his shoulders left everything between feeling very stretched.

"Hold him tight!"

Distantly he heard something sing through the air, a snap, and the pulling at his face ceased.

"Hold still," someone ordered, and he felt the cool edge of a blade against his skin.

The wet suffocating thing slowly came free and Ron was all too eager to have it off, "Thanks."

"You okay?" asked Harry.

"I think so. Where, where is she?" he asked, looking around frantically.

"The mermaid? Back in the water where she belongs," said the captain, sliding his short saber back into its sheath.

"Mermaid! That was… I mean, she looked," he babbled, his brain unable to rationalize the rapturous creature he'd just seen with the vaguely humanoid fish people living next to Hogwarts.

"Aye, best ye keep clear of the rails. Might not be close enough to save you if she tries again," said Captain Flynn, who then turned and stomped off across the fog shrouded deck.

"Geez. Harry?"

"Yeah Ron."

"These girls are gonna kill me."

"Prek!"

"Oh, there you are Hedwig."

The white owl gave a flapping hop from the rail to her wizard and immediately began preening. An owl's work was never done.

"I guess I owe you one," said Ron, referring to the owl.

Hedwig nodded her acknowledgement then went back to her work, "She must have been watching," said Harry who endured her affections with well-practiced stoicism.

"Speaking of watching, I just noticed you weren't wearing your glasses," said Ron.

"Yeah, not sure where they got to. But more importantly, I don't need them."

"How's that? I thought your eyes were shite without them." Weird really given how good a Seeker he was.

"Whatever happened last night must have done more than anyone thought because when I woke up this morning I could see, perfectly. Even better than when I had my glasses."

"All so you could see naked girls," said Ron.

"You're really stuck on that part, aren't you?" Harry said with a grin.

As Ron sat their pouting and Hedwig preened a chortling Harry, the fog began to thin, revealing the deck of the Black Gull, and oh boy was it a mess.

"Yikes!" remarked Harry. Ron nodded his agreement and watched a plush badger waddle across the ruined deck, pausing momentarily at a scorched ring, "So, that's where it happened."

"Yep!" Bouncing with energy Merle tromped up on deck with Sorsha following at a more sedate pace. Hedwig abandoned her boy for her minion and Merle took her place hanging off Harry's shoulder. "Hi!"

Harry shook his head at her exuberance, "Done laughing at me?"

"For now."

Harry scowled playfully while Merle nuzzled and purred.

"So not fair," Ron grumbled.

"If you want, we can go fishing for your girlfriend later," Harry offered with a smirk.

Ran gave the smirker the appropriate response and stuck out tongue his.

The two women laughed which demanded the question, "What's so funny?" when a worn, sickly looking bard staggered on deck with the help of an unarmored Paladin.

"Hermione! Still alive?" Ron teased.

The bushy haired girl glared at the ginger, "If I could raise my fist I'd flatten your nose," she growled while demonstrating her inability to follow through on the threat.

"Good to see everyone in high spirits," said Vargas, holding up the sickly wilting girl like she weighed nothing.

"You mean after last night," said Harry.

"It was quite the encounter," he agreed.

"I'll take your word for it."

The Paladin gave the druid an odd look, but before he could press the issue the ship broke through the fog bank and the first rays of early morning began to warm the deck.

"Mm, hello sunshine," Merle purred.

"It is a welcome sight." The attractive warlock basked in the morning glow, pretending she wasn't also basking in all the 'discreet' looks.

"Land Ho!"

The cry from the crow's nest instigated a flurry of activity and the adventurous group found themselves sequentially pushed toward the helm where the captain stood guiding his ship through the water toward a small island covered in greenery.

"We'll need to do some repairs. Without 'em we'll never make it to port," he said without preamble.

The deck was a mess and the rail on the one side, what was left, was largely smashed. Ron could only guess at the extent of the damage he couldn't see.

"Can we find what we need there?" asked Harry.

The captain nodded unconcerned, "You needn't worry yourself over that Druid. This isn't the first time I've had to do repairs mid trip. The sea is a harsh mistress."

Ron smirked, "Typical woman… ow!" She couldn't raise her fist, but she did have enough strength to kick him in the shin.

"Regardless," said the captain, hiding a grin, "We'll have the ship sea worthy quick enough. I just need you to make sure nothing on that island interferes while we're working."

"You think there's something living there?" asked Harry.

"Plenty a things living there I'm sure," he said. "Whether or not their friendly, well, that's a whole other question, ain't it?"


	3. Chapter 02

Wild Waves, Wicked Women  
Chapter 02

…

The sun was half way up the sky when the Black Gull dropped anchor in the shallow lagoon. Fully loaded, the ship ran precariously close to the bottom, but the captain was confident he could get her back out to sea and the lagoon would provide some protection from the elements should the weather turn again.

Harry listened intently, eagerly soaking up the knowledge so freely offered. When the captain selected the landing party Harry was the first to volunteer, followed by Hermione. Harry was eager to explore, see what mysteries or dangers the island might hold. Hermione just wanted off the boat.

"Cast off!"

The small craft launched and headed for shore. Harry and Vargas sat in the lead boat and were the first feet on land, scouring the beach for signs of life as the others consecutively hit sand and were hauled up.

"Land!" Hermione cried, leaping from the dinghy and giving the beach a highly overdramatic greeting.

"You'd think she didn't like the boat or something," Merle quipped with a Cheshire grin.

"Look lively people," shouted the first mate. "Let's get set up so we can get to work."

The men went about their tasks expeditiously. Little was said and much was done which greatly impressed Harry. Never had he seen such a large group work so efficiently. The D.A. had certainly never been so easy to manage.

Feeling a sense of industry, he continued to scour the beach, though there wasn't much to find. Evidence of the storm lay strewn about but anything that may have indicated inhabitants had been blown or washed away.

At least, that's what he thought till he saw Vargas hunched over with a look of deep concentration, "Find something?"

The paladin held up what Harry at first thought was just a black stick. Strange kind of stick, sprouting sharp pointy rocks at the end. Harry took the item and examined it more closely, "Some sort of arrow?"

It was only half again as long as the bolts in the crossbows some of the men had brought with them. Harry couldn't imagine what else it might be used for.

"It's a spear," said Vargas.

"A spear! Awful tiny for a spear."

"For us perhaps."

Harry quickly caught on to what the paladin was implying, "What made it."

"Froaker probably."

Harry had no idea what a froaker was, but he was about to find out. They burst from the water some twenty feet from the boats and hit the sand running. The crew halted what they'd been doing and frantically dove for their weapons.

Vargas turned to face them, placing his hand on his sword but waiting to draw it. Harry just stared. His first impression was 'who knew Dobby had such ugly cousins'. An unfair assessment, given his own relations, but at first glance he couldn't help but see a resemblance.

They were not tall, perhaps four feet if they stood on their toes. Their bodies were squat and round as were their heads which only made their long gangly limbs look that much more peculiar. Neither wore any clothing save a simple belt with shells and fish tied to it.

Each carried a spear like the one in Harry's hand, but it was quickly evident they'd no plans to use them. They hardly spared the humans a second look as they dashed across the beach and vanished between the trees.

"Froaker's?"

"Indeed."

"Did they seem like they were in a hurry?"

No sooner had the observation been made did they hear the first cry from the ship. Everyone turned just as a barrage of grappling cords erupted from the water and fell upon the landing crew like sticky hail.

"Mermaids!"

Harry and Vargas rushed to their aid, absently noting the half fish creatures thrashing just above the surface as they fought to drag the crew in. Vargas drew his sword and sliced cleanly through the nearest cord while Harry, having no sharp object of his own, used the crude froaker spear.

"You boys sure are popular," Merle cackled as she bounced from man to man, slicing at their bindings with her razor-sharp claws.

The mermaids screamed angrily as their lines were cut one by one. But it was the deep groaning roar that got everyone's attention. The source introducing itself by latching onto one side of the ship with its big thick tentacles and hauling the connected body part way out of the water.

"Kraken!"

"Looks like the fish girls brought their pet," said Merle, bounding up to the two men.

"It's just a pup," said Vargas. "A full-grown Kraken would tear that ship in two easily."

Merle scowled at the paladin, "It's big enough."

Harry agreed, "Just how are we supposed to fight it?"

The answer, as with so many things, was FIRE. That was how Sorsha chose to do it anyway. From a distance it was hard to tell how effective it was though.

"She won't be able to keep that up forever," said Merle.

"And we can't get out there and help them until we clear the space between." Unsure which group to go after the mermaids milled about in the water, blocking their path to the ship.

"Hermione! We need some ideas," Harry shouted, unsure where his friend had gotten to and starting to feel a headache coming on.

"All my stuffs still on the ship," she called back from behind one of the dinghy's.

Harry gave an aggravated sigh, "Squishy meat." This development did not improve his headache, nor did one of the mermaids taking a shot at him with her grappling line.

He smacked the grapple hard into the sand with his staff, earning him an ugly look from the fish woman as she yanked her line back. A groan from the 'small' giant cephalopod was followed by a large splash as its mass fell back into the water, tilting the ship precariously as it clung to the boat with a single tentacle.

The mermaids screamed furiously and rushed the ship, hurling their bodies at the tilting vessel intent on sending it all the way over, "They're gonna tip it!"

"We have to get out there."

Their shouts were deafening in Harrys ears and he felt his headache explode into something else entirely, something oddly familiar, "Get away from the water," he whispered.

"What?"

"Get away from the water!"

Energy pulsed from his body and his words echoed like thunder. Somewhere beneath the surging energy Harry tried to focus, staring hard at the ship and its attackers, willing it in that direction. Lightning surged through his hands and danced across the water like a frantic ballet. The screams of the mermaids were only just less horrible than the cry of the Kraken as they were all filled with unmeasurable power.

"Uh, Harry? Harry! You can stop now."

Merle's words sounded odd to Harry, muted, far off.

"Druid, enough!"

The commanding bark of the paladin on the other hand came through loud and clear. With a near herculean effort he tried to draw the power back. It didn't want to be, that was clear, but he struggled till he had it. Once under control it was like someone hit the off switch. One minute he was fighting to contain himself, the next he was fighting to remain upright.

"Harry! Harry are you alright?" Merle shouted, jumping to support him before he toppled over.

"That, that was… what was that?" He felt like he was made of lead. Not a moment earlier he'd thought he was going to explode with all the power coursing through him. With it gone it was as though those channels of power had been filled with cement.

"What the hell was that just now?" demanded the first mate as he stomped up to the group.

"What, you've never seen a man pull lighting out of his ass."

The seaman scowled at the smirking feline then, overtly, chose to ignore her, "You gonna live Druid?"

"I'll have to get back to you on that one," he groaned.

"How are the others?" Vargas asked, changing the subject.

"Rattled, but they'll get over it," he replied, "Captain'll want to harvest that beast now. Even a small Kraken be worth good coin."

"What about them?" asked Harry, gesturing at the school of mermaids belly up around the ship.

The first mate shrugged, "Shark bait."

"Maybe we should pull them out of the water then," said Merle, "before we attract anything worse."

So, while Vargas and the first mate rowed back out to the ship for a quick consultation with the captain, Harry sat and watched Merle prowl up and down the beach while the crew pulled mermaid corpses from the water and finished setting up their camp.

"Harry, how do you feel?"

Harry gave his bushy-haired friend a weak smile but hesitated to answer. How did he feel? Heavy, sluggish, he was still conscious at least. "I'm fine Hermione." He'd said it often enough, maybe one day it would actually be true.

"You're a terrible liar you know," she said, kneeling next to him.

"Yeah I know," he said, "but I'm getting better."

She shook her head and laughed, only then noticing the stick he was holding, "What's that?"

"Froaker spear."

"Is that what those things were earlier, the ones that jumped out of the water before the mermaids attacked?"

Harry nodded, "I was holding this when I did, that, with the lightning."

"Really?" she leaned in for a closer look only to bounce back with a squeak when the tip sparked, "Sweet Merlin!"

"Yeah, been doin that since I sat down. Ass weird," he slurred as he struggled against the magical exhaustion.

"The rock must be holding a charge," she said, glaring at the sparking stone.

Harry shrugged, he'd hang onto it regardless. Seemed like a thing he ought to do.

"Looks like they're coming back," Merle announced as a small boat was launched from the ship. "Best get ready to work!" she chirped with an obnoxious amount of enthusiasm.

Grunting and groaning Harry struggled to his feet while Hermione looked on with concern, "Harry, you should rest," she insisted.

He shook his head, "Not here to rest," he said, leaning heavily on his staff. "We're here to work."

Tucking the sparking spear into his belt where it finally decided to stop, he trudged down the beach to meet the boat with Hermione close behind. He felt like he was dragging a concrete block, but he wouldn't let that stop him from doing his job. He'd work till they were done, then he'd pass out like a sissy.

"Harry. Promise me you'll at least stay out of trouble." Harry couldn't help but grin. That his friend would even ask him something like that. "Don't grin at me like that, I'm serious."

This only made his grin bigger, "No, you're Hermione. If you were Sirius, you wouldn't be asking me to stay out of trouble."

The bard growled at his stupid joke, "That is not funny."

"Something else you wouldn't say if you were Sirius."

The girl groaned and gave the uncooperative boy a stern glare, "You stay out of trouble, you hear me Harry Potter."

He did, not that it made much difference, "Don't tell me, tell the universe." Maybe it would listen. Probably not.


	4. Chapter 03

Wild Waves, Wicked Women  
Chapter 03

…

"Honestly, I ask you to do one thing, ONE THING, and you can't even do that. Is it really, so hard, to stay out of trouble, just for one day?" Probably, thought Harry, but sensing that wasn't what she wanted to hear he chose to keep it to himself.

"I feel like I'm talking to myself. Is that what it is? Am I talking to myself? Is that why no one is listening to me?"

Merle bit back a smart remark as she watched the bard harangue the druid for, apparently, getting into trouble. She still didn't understand that part. So, he'd gone off into the woods and come back with a couple tagalongs. What was the problem?

From the perspective of the tagalong's, it was the bard, who continued to yell like their mere presence was some sort of insult. Whispering conspiratorially, they concocted their plan. It was easy to do, since her attention was on the druid, she didn't even notice at first, though everyone else did. How could they not when the volume abruptly went from ten to zero.

The druid sighed when he realized what had happened, "Millet, Rue."

The two twelve-inch girls floated on gossamer dragonfly wings till they were right in front of him. Neither was willing to look him in the eye which belied their oh so casual demeanor, "What did you do?"

The fairies were aghast at the accusation and denied any involvement, only briefly pausing when the muted bard lunged at them and they ducked behind their druid. One last whisper in his ear and they snuck under his robe to safety.

Sigh, "Just one a them days," he muttered, picking up his quietly furious friend and depositing her before the camp fire before taking his own seat.

"So. What did they say?" Her cat like curiosity couldn't take the suspense.

"They said she could have it back when she learned how to behave with it."

Hermione gaped like a large mouth bass. Merle fell off her log laughing hysterically. Hermione did not see the humor.

"So, how did you pick them up anyway?" Merle asked once she'd gotten the giggles out.

"Didn't even mean for it to happen," said Harry bashfully, "it just sort of did."

Merle grinned and wiggled more comfortably into her seat. She loved story time.

…

I'd been dragging ass since the mermaid incident, shambling around behind the men as they looked for usable timber. As time passed, I was slowly starting to get my energy back, which is good. I was going to need all the energy I could get.

The sun was starting to set, and the men were ready to head back when I had the strangest sensation, like a call just below my ability to hear. The men were making so much noise I moved away from them to try and hear better. It came again, like the ghost of a forgotten word. My curiosity, as it so often does, got the better of me.

I tried to determine a direction, a source for this unexplainable phenomenon. Failing that, I followed my gut and started into the forest. The foliage was surprisingly thick and incredibly damp. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes traipsing through, but it felt longer, and I was dripping by the time I came out on a collection of stones and sand, somehow not claimed by the green. The voice was there too, no louder than before yet it felt close.

I approached the stones cautiously. There was a tall section creating a kind of inward curving wall and that was where I found her. At first, I thought she was a dragonfly. She was caught in a large web, struggling to free herself. It wasn't till I got close I noticed the body attached to those wings was human shaped. Imagine my surprise when she looks up, sees me, and gives the most pitiful cry for help.

Her voice was still the same edge of the senses call but it wasn't hard to tell what she wanted.

I bent down to free her when a shadow moved out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look which is the only thing that saved me when the giant spider leapt.

Now, be fair, when I say giant I mean by normal standards. It was about as big as a medium sized dog. By no means the biggest spider I've ever seen but certainly big enough to make me hit the ground on pure reflex.

It sailed over me, landing on a nearby rock with frightening agility. I scrambled to my feet, gripping my staff and keeping it firmly between us. I might not have Ron's fear of spiders, but I did not want that thing getting close.

The element of surprise gone, he seemed equally hesitant to approach me, circling around, keeping his distance yet always keeping me in sight. It took me a minute to realize he was circling toward the web. I took a threatening jab at him, he hissed and jumped at me again. I caught him mid jump and swatted him into the wall, away from the web.

He landed on his back, hissing furiously, trying to right himself. Again, lacking Ron's perspective on things with eight legs and bug eyes, the idea of letting the nasty thing live never even crossed my mind.

It had just righted itself when my staff punched through its hardened carapace, slamming it into the ground. It thrashed and squirmed angrily, but I held fast till its struggles slowed, then ceased.

Panting, I jerked my staff out of the cooling corpse, using the sand to clean the goo from the end.

"Disgusting." It wasn't quite as viscous as troll snot, but close enough.

Giving the spider a kick, just to make sure, I returned to the little winged person, still stuck in the web. Carefully, I freed her from the sticky trap. Her wings were still a bit webbed, but I was afraid I might break them.

She didn't seem to notice. Or maybe it was me who didn't notice. If I had this next part wouldn't have been such a surprise. As I looked at the tiny winged person in my hand, she seemed to grow right before my eyes. That was wrong. She wasn't growing. I was shrinking, and fast.

I hit bottom like I'd been dropped. Shamefully, I will admit I fell on my butt. My staff had not made the trip with me and stood, a near impossible monolith, towering over me.

Shortly, I became aware of a sound. A familiar sound. An annoying tittering sound.

The winged girl, now equal to me in size, floated gently to the ground, her webbed wings outstretched and trying to move yet mostly failing. My new 'perspective' gave me a whole new view of her. The glow that had been all I could see was dimmed, allowing me to see the body beneath.

She was dressed in what I thought looked like large blades of dried grass with a belt of grain seeds. Her tittering, as it turned out, was due to my gracefully abrupt sitting. Being easily entertained seems to be something of a hallmark of these types of fairies, as I was to learn.

I asked her why she'd shrunk me. She playfully suggested this size would be better for freeing her wings. While I couldn't argue with her logic, that didn't stop me from being annoyed at my sudden size adjustment. She had my number though. One good puppy dog pout and I acquiesced.

Yes, I am a sucker. Shut up.

After removing the webbing from her wings, she decided to take me back to her tree. I didn't know what to say and she didn't give me any time to think about it either. Dragging me through the air like I weighed nothing, she took me to an old oak at what she claimed was the very center of the island.

And this is where things got a little harrowing. What she had referred to as her tree was the home to every fairy on the island. Including their queen.

I was a little gob smacked meeting her. Not just because she was such an impressive sight, which she was, decked out in a white dress of finely woven cotton, accented in tiny pearls and sparkling stones. No, it was mostly the fact she was fourteen inches to my ten which had me feeling very vulnerable, especially with the none too friendly look she gave me when I was dropped unceremoniously at her feet.

I thought to choose my words carefully, say nothing that might upset her, and avoid a good squashing. That was what I thought to do. My mouth apparently received different instructions. "You are really tall."

I almost couldn't believe what I was hearing, the words coming out of my own mouth. The queen quirked an imperious eyebrow, stood to tower over me menacingly, and then, she sneezed.

That alone wouldn't have been so impressive if it hadn't made her explode like a grenade of dandelion fluff. But the weirdness didn't stop there. Sitting in the middle of all that fluff was a little winged girl, looking to be no more than ten or eleven, twitching her nose.

This was the actual fairy queen, not the glamour I had seen before, a trick. The assembled fairies fell all over themselves laughing while the fairy queen begged to be picked up. She was like a happy child, cuddling in my arms. I was beyond confused at that point, beyond trying to reason or rationalize the situation, so when someone suggested we should 'play squirrel', I only had one question.

"How do you play squirrel?"

So, they showed me.

…

"Wow. Sounds like you had a full day," quipped Merle.

"Yeah, you could say that."

Hermione could have said a lot of things, and she was making every effort to do so. Her hands were being extremely loud anyway.

Shaking his head, "Rue, let her talk."

The little winged girl gave the bard a skeptical look, then sighed, giving a quick snap before zipping behind Harry's head.

"Can I talk again? I can! At least I can hear myself. Can anyone else hear me?"

"Nope!"

Hermione scowled at the chirpy cat girl who just grinned, "You!"

"Me!"

"Girls." The last thing he needed was these two fighting.

"Just so I'm understanding, they taught you how to self-transfigure yourself?"

"I believe they called it 'wild shaping'."

"And you mastered this in an hour" the incredulity in her tone could not have been thicker.

"Felt longer," he said, choosing to ignore it, "and I wouldn't say I've mastered it." Or that they taught it, unless you call sitting there and laughing as he failed again and again teaching.

"Soooooo, you can turn into animals," Merle chirped, "do it."

"Oh yes, please, let's see it," Hermione scowled.

Unsure how to interpret his friends comment he did as bid, closing his eyes and calling up the form he wished to take. The reaction to his transformation was unexpected.

"Yeek!" Merle squealed, ducking behind her log like a frightened alley cat.

Hermione was darkly amused at this but had to ask, "Why a bulldog?"

Because taking a form required knowledge of the form to be taken, and there were few creatures he was familiar enough with to do so. Certainly few he was more intimately familiar with than Aunt Marge's Ripper.

"Hiss, don't like, hiss," hissed Merle.

He thought about chasing the jumpy feline around for a bit but opted not to. No telling how that might end. Instead he shifted again, taking the form of the gray squirrel he'd mastered earlier, and yes, that form at least he had mastered.

"Squirrel!"

As unprepared as he'd been for her earlier reaction he was just as surprised when she leapt from behind the log and tried to catch him. 'Try' being the operative word.

As a squirrel his reflexes were insanely quick and he nimbly dodged the grasping cat girl, hopping onto her head to escape her hands. Frantically she snatched at him, but he was too wily for her scrambling hands, then the fairies decided to get involved.

Fifteen minutes later, Merle had tired herself out and was curled up with her head on Harry's lap, "Fine, so you can, wild shape, or whatever it's called" Hermione grumped, "What about them."

The two fairies, having also exhausted themselves, had made a nest in Harry's hair and where peacefully snoozing, "Dandelion gave them to me."

"Gave them?"

"To be my minions," or henchman as the little fairy queen had called them, "Rue was more than happy to come, and Millet didn't seem to mind. There was a third that wanted to, the one that I saved, but Dandelion said no."

Hermione was silent after that, glaring at him through the fire. He still didn't understand why she was upset but he was beginning to think Ron had been right. She wasn't going to tell him what was bothering her, and she definitely seemed to be blaming him for not figuring it out.

"Honestly!" she exclaimed out of the blue before stomping off to her tent.

Harry stared after her and sighed, "This is getting old." And it needed to stop.


	5. Chapter 04

Wild Waves, Wicked Women  
Chapter 04

…

"And that is how I defeated the Grand Pooba of Yooba. True story."

"I don't believe a word of it."

"Whaaaaaaat!"

*Krackaboom*

Merle leapt to Harry's side as the sky roared. Bad weather had struck before they'd completed repairs to the ship and the rain had driven the landing crew into the tents.

"I wasn't aware you were so timid around thunder," teased Sorsha who'd traded places with Vargas the previous day so he could lend his assistance with the repairs.

"Well, I am," said the feline female, snuggling Harry's arm.

Harry himself was unconvinced but he wasn't about to say anything. He liked the snuggles, "Your turn Sorsha."

The guards had been trading stories for hours. Hermione had only told one though, after Merle had tittered at the end, which was not supposed to be funny, she'd refused to tell another.

"Hmm, this is probably the only good one I've got left," she said. Dipping a hand between her cleavage she drew out a small cord with a shimmering blue crystal.

"Best magic trick ever," said Harry, admiring the necklace as an excuse to admire, other things.

One glance up and he could tell he'd been caught. He hid a blush behind a cough but Sorsha only grinned, "Like what you see."

"I remember that," said Merle, "you really wanna tell that one?"

"Why not?"

"Well, he did wind up dead."

Harry stiffened, thinking the worst, but Sorsha waved off the cat girl's concerns, "I wasn't hired to save him, that wasn't what his sister wanted, or so she claimed."

"You have my full attention," said Harry.

"I always did," she said with an indulgent smirk.

"Yes, yes, nough flirting, story!"

Sorsha shook her head, "This happened before I met princess impatient," and she paused so the princess could express her opinion, with her tongue. "I was approached by a young woman who told me her brother had been bewitched.

"She said she'd first started noticing some weeks earlier when he'd disappear for long stretches. Then things around the house started disappearing. She wasn't certain until this disappeared.

"She tried confronting him, but he'd hear none of it. She thought about following him, but she was afraid of what she might find. I wasn't.

"Trailing him was simple enough. He wasn't subtle nor terribly observant, but he was regular. That made it stupidly easy to follow him to the sea cave and his enchantress. His sister had been partly right when she'd called him bewitched. There was magic involved, but it wasn't being used on him. The glamour the sea hag was using on herself was quite impressive, but it was still only a pretty face.

"I watched them for a time and my patience was rewarded when he pulled out the necklace. He hadn't yet given it to her but was using it to tease her. I could tell she was only mildly interested in the trinket. Her true goal was driving a wedge between he and his sister. All hags despise humans and revel in their suffering.

"But, my job wasn't to save a fool from his foolishness. His sister wanted the necklace back and I had a pretty good idea how to do it.

"I set myself up along the path back to his home. Like clockwork, along he came. He seemed confused at first, but I gave him my sweet, innocent routine and he just melted. It was barely the work of an hour before he was eating out of the palm of my hand and placing the necklace into it like an obedient dog. Once I had that I teased him a little more then sent him on his way.

"I met up with the sister after and told her all I'd seen. She was furious, which I found confusing till a few pieces clicked into place. They weren't just siblings you see, they were lovers. She being of the jealous variety. She didn't even care about the necklace. Refused to take it in fact. She went home that night, cooked up a big dinner and made sure he ate his fill.

"Then, when he was fast asleep, she set their little wooden house on fire and killed them both."

"And nobody lived happily ever after," Merle added after Sorsha had completed her tale.

"Thank you, Merle."

The feline femme grinned, she was helping, "So, some story, huh Harry?"

Yes, it was. The words to describe that however failed him. Merle giggled and Sorsha smirked while his jaw worked like a cod, up and down and utterly indecipherable.

"I think you broke him," said Merle.

"So innocent. So adorably innocent," Sorsha cackled.

"It's not funny," said Hermione.

"Oh, don't act like you've never tried to make a boy go all stupid before," said Merle.

"I haven't," said Hermione obstinately.

"Wow! You're boring."

"What!"

"His sister!" exclaimed Harry. "He was sleeping with his sister! That's just…"

"Sick and wrong," said Hermione.

"Boooooriiiiiing," sing-songed Merle.

Harry ignored the quarreling females in favor of more important things, "So, what happened to the sea hag?"

"I told the town guard where she was, and they dealt with her."

"And you kept the necklace?"

"The crystal has surprisingly good resonance," she said. "I had a wizard lay a few enchantments on it."

"Why didn't you do it yourself," Hermione sniped.

"That sort of magic wasn't part of my pact," she replied, ignoring the other girl's attitude.

"What's it do then?" asked Harry.

"It glows."

"It glows?"

"Uh huh."

"That's it?"

"What'd you expect it to do? Shoot rainbows."

"… well, when you say it like that."

The moment of levity was cut off by a brilliant flash and a deafening roar, "Oh Harry, save me from the nasty sky," Merle purred, pressing herself into his side.

Millet and Rue tittered at her dramatics from their nest in his hair. Harry just rolled his eyes, "You do recall the last time it did this I was struck by lightning?"

The cat girl nodded, "And lightning never strikes the same place twice so you're safe."

Hermione groaned at the 'logic' but Sorsha laughed aloud, "Works for me." Sauntering over she took Harry's other arm and adhered her front.

"Oh boy," he'd been here before, though last time there hadn't been a chaperone.

"Oh honestly!" And with the rain she couldn't leave, "He's not a toy you know."

"Sure he is," Merle chirped.

Hermione grumbled something then pulled the blanket she'd been hiding under tight and lay down by her log with her back to the fire, and them.

"Sleepy time already," said Merle, giving a yawn which surprised even her.

"So, she does run out of energy," Harry chuckled only to be dragged off his log and sandwiched between two warm bodies.

"Good pillow," Sorsha crooned, snuggling into Harry's chest.

Merle made no comment, already fast asleep, "Who knew being used could be so much fun," he mused. "You two wanna take the first watch?"

The fairies in his hair tinkled their ascent and zipped over to the tent flap. Morphing into a pair of small dogs, they marched back and forth before the opening with incredible seriousness.

If Harry hadn't been pinned down, he would have laughed. Instead he gently shook his head before settling in and nodding off.

He awoke, what felt far too soon, to the feel of hands running frantically across his body. He opened his eyes and found Sorsha hovering over him worrying her lip, an activity he found oddly captivating.

"Good morning," he slurred groggily when she noticed he was awake.

"Harry, my necklace is gone."

His brain was slow to process, freezing up midway through and presenting the error sign, "Say again."

"Remember that necklace I showed you last night?" He nodded slowly, "It's gone. I can't find it."

He could see she was agitated so it was time to get up. His first attempt reminded him he had a Merle glued to one side. His second revealed a pair of small dogs snoozing at his feet.

He shook his head at his 'sentries', "You two are the worst guard dogs."

With everyone looking it didn't take long to confirm the necklace was gone. It took them only slightly longer to find the odd prints in the sand.

"These, look like handprints."

Handprints with a heavy heel, judging by the way the sand had distorted under the weight, "Can you two track these?"

The fairy dogs sniffed at the odd prints, stuck their noses in the air, then proceeded to sniff each other's butts before shaking their heads.

"You two make terrible dogs."

The two not dogs made a huge show out of how hurt they were by his words. When that failed to garner any sympathy the morphed back and zipped into his hair.

"Harry," called Hermione as she approached, "the first mate says we've enough materials and the repairs should be finished in a few hours, so we're headed back to the ship."

He could see Sorsha wanted to protest but she held it in. She knew as well as any they couldn't waste time looking for one unimportant trinket.

"Tell the first mate to leave one of the dinghy's, the rest of you go back to the ship."

"What're you gonna do?"

"Track down a thief."

The look of silent gratitude was all the thanks he needed. The kiss was an unexpected bonus, but who was he to complain.

Marveling at all the physical affection he'd been receiving, Harry summoned a single wolf and set it on the trail. Unlike the fairies, his wolf took right to it, padding along quickly after the odd tracks, up the beach and into the green.

The rain from the previous day had left everything damp and it dragged at him as he followed the gray furred canine. He was surprised when the wolf stopped, milling about confused and whimpering.

Harry knelt to see what had his summon flummoxed and found himself in a similar state. A single print pressed deep into the soft earth, and that was all. The tracks ended.

Harry looked around for signs he might have missed but there was nothing. There was some sort of long trough snaking its way through the mud but no prints.

"Well, bollocks," Harry cursed.

"Prek!"

Harry looked up surprised, finding his owl looking at him quizzically, "Hedwig. Did you see…"

But before he could even finish his owl bobbed and took off, forcing Harry to chase after her. She didn't go far, leading him to a small clearing where a familiar gangly creature stood wringing his hands under the watchful eye of a glowing winged girl.

Spotting him, the fairy zipped up to say hello. Despite their difference in stature since the last time they'd met he was still certain he recognized her, "Thistle, wasn't it?"

The fairy nodded excitedly, thrilled to be remembered. The froaker was much less excited and cowered when the fairy returned and started tinkling angrily at him.

"No! Wasn't! Didn't do!" the creature whimpered in barely intelligible English.

Harry didn't think this was his thief. The way the fairy was bullying him, Harry was sure she'd have recovered the necklace already, if that were her intent. Harry looked to his owl who simply indicated the froaker.

Gently, he placed his hands around the winged girl and drew her away from the cowering toad man, "Why don't you let me try talking to him."

The fragile little female blushed and nodded. Placing her in his hair with the other two, Harry knelt by the froaker who whimpered and cowered.

"Please, I'm not going to hurt you" he said, "I'm looking for something."

"Don't gots it," he moaned.

"I know" he said, gaining the amphibious humanoids attention, "but I think you might have seen who took it."

The froaker looked around suspiciously, "might?"

Harry nodded, "It was a simple cord with a blue crystal."

The froaker stared at Harry, stared like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Harry wanted to hurry him, but he recognized the timidity all too well. One wrong move and the gangly humanoid would bolt, so he waited.

"It… is strange thing," he quavered, "like never seen. Not know what ee was. Stayed away."

"What did it look like?" Harry questioned patiently.

"Strange. Ee add big arms and hair all over."

"Big arms? Big how?"

"Up," he said, throwing his arms above his head, "waddle like ducks. Legs not big, an, an was orange."

"Orange?" what sort of animal was orange.

"And, and it change," cowering again it wept into its oversized hands.

"Changed? Changed how?" Harry asked.

"Terrible. Terrible," was all he said, shaking tearfully.

Well, that didn't help much. Thistle tinkled angrily but it didn't help, "Leaves us be," he wept, "If was creepy crawly you woulds not say so mean."

Thistle fumed silently, clearly wanting to chastise the froaker. What he'd said must have struck a chord though, and that gave Harry pause.

Creepy crawly? Did he mean spider. The thing he'd seen was to him what spiders were to Thistle. No idea what that was but it explained the skittishness.

"You know where it is?" He nodded, "Can you show me?"

The froaker shook his head vehemently, "No, no, no," he wept, "terrible, terrible."

At least he wasn't hurting himself, Harry thought, reminded so much of his early meetings with Dobby. His approach then hadn't been very good. His approach now was proving only slightly better.

He could try threatening, but he'd have to make himself more intimidating than whatever the froaker was afraid of. Given the situation he doubted he had time for that, and the very idea left a bad taste in his mouth anyway. He'd have to go the other way.

Placing a hand on the weeping froaker's shoulder and forcing it to look at him, "I need you to show me where it is." The froaker started to whimper but Harry gripped the shoulder firmly, "I promise, no harm will come to you."

He didn't actually know that, having no idea what he was up against, but he pushed that thought aside and forced himself to believe what he was saying. He was a terrible liar, everyone he knew said so, which meant if he wanted the froaker to believe him, he had to believe it first.

The froaker stared with its big bulbous eyes then, slowly, gave a timid whimpering nod. Harry returned the nod and released the froaker, calling to his wolf and signaling Hedwig to follow them.

The froaker led them a winding path through the thick foliage. Unable to see the sky Harry could still feel the ascending sun as the humidity rose with every step. He would be glad to leave the little island. He'd spent less time soaked aboard the Black Gull than he had in only two days back on land.

The froaker brought them to a small clearing on what felt like the east side of the island. From a low branch on a wide, stout tree hung a familiar bit of jewelry. The crystal sparkled in the early morning light, tantalizing.

"That's not suspicious at all," Harry mused, observing the tree from the cover of the forest.

The froaker stood next to him, shivering like he had ice down his pants, which he did not wear. Hedwig was circling overhead but had given no signal. He was running out of time and patience.

"Wait here," he told his wolf, carefully slipping from cover and approaching his prize.

He crept in, each step painstakingly placed. He was within a few feet of the tree when it appeared. Swinging through the branches with its big, long arms, the orangutan launched itself at him with a simian shriek.

Ever quick on the reflex, Harry narrowly dodged the long-armed cannonball, and the rock it followed up with. Target in sight the summoned wolf rushed the primate, but what it collided with was a whole other sort of beast.

Harry stood stunned as the two wolves ripped and tore at each other. Change. Now he understood. It was some sort of shape changer. Something he himself now was to a limited degree.

He watched the fight, staff at the ready but unable to engage. The two wolves looked so similar he wasn't sure which was his, not until it vanished. The disappearance of its opponent left the shifter momentarily shocked and Harry used that moment to club it upside the head.

The wolf fell whimpering but not for long as it shifted again into a massive constrictor. The froaker shrieked at the sight of it, drawing the python's attention. Harry didn't need it breaking his promise, so he blasted it with a Swarm. The snake hissed and coiled in on itself like a living pretzel.

Harry waited for the head to come back out so he could hit it, but the shifter had other plans. Bulging up like a fount of gray clay it took the form of a large bear. It wasn't as large as the one that had chased them on their way to Daggerhold, but it still towered over Harry like an angry uncle. That didn't stop him from taking a swing at it, he'd fought bigger after all. The bear took the hit like a pro then swatted the stick out of Harry's hand.

Harry stumbled from the loss of his staff and the bear lunged into the opening, sending Harry flying.

His head spun but he still heard the bear approach. A flash of wings and talons halted the bears advance, and three glowing arrows shooting from his hair sent it backpedaling, giving Harry enough space to make his feet.

His staff lay well out of reach and his only reinforcements, while good distraction, would not be besting this enemy. His head throbbed as he tried to come up with a solution only to be distracted by a poking in his side.

The old froaker spear sparked the moment his hand wrapped around the shaft, a hint of the lightning power that had so recently come upon him tingling up his arm. He'd no instruction, no incantation, not so much as a hint of how he was supposed to do it. That didn't stop him from pointing the spear and feeling the surge build.

"Get clear!"

The command boomed like a clap of thunder. Hedwig and the three fairies fled, leaving the bear staring down an orb of surging power. It tried to flee but as it learned, you can't outrun lightning. The ball exploded in a thunderous wave, the sparking bear flying through two trees before planting itself into the wet earth.

Harry panted, slowly lowering his weapon while bracing for what came next. The exhaustion swept over him as expected, but it lacked the severity of his previous experience's. He was still standing and able to walk, and he used that mobility to approach his defeated foe. What he found nearly finished what the lightning had started, and he braced himself against the nearest tree.

At the bottom of a too large hole was a too small boy. Scruffy black hair with sun brown skin, he wore nothing but a well wrapped cloth to preserve his modesty. By the look of him he couldn't have been much over ten.

So many questions, but before he could ask them, he needed to wake the boy, and make sure he couldn't get away. A few minutes later he splashed a shell full of cold water across his face. He sputtered briefly then sprang to life. He sprang back when the cord holding his arms pulled taut against the tree.

"I wouldn't try any of your shifting," said Harry. "I'm told that cord is quite strong."

The boy looked up at him like a nearly feral thing. Fear and anger warred like he didn't know whether to attack or retreat.

"What is your name?" Harry asked.

The boy only stared in response like he didn't understand.

"Do you have a name?" Harry wondered aloud, "Do you even speak?"

"I speak," he said slowly.

Harry was relieved, "Good," it felt less foolish talking to him this way. "Your name?"

"Mowgli," he said after a long pause he spent examining Harry. "What is your name?"

"Harry."

"Release me."

"Not yet."

"Release me!"

Harry scowled at the demanding child, "Not yet," he repeated. "I have questions. For example."

Mowgli's eyes went wide when Harry held up the necklace, "Mine!" he shouted, yanking against the cord.

"You stole this," said Harry.

"Is mine!" he cried.

"No. This belongs to my friend. You stole it from her. Why?"

The boy wilted under the accusatory glare, "Sparkly."

Staring at the fidgeting child Harry resisted the urge to groan. For all his apparent magical power, he was still just a boy.

Harry motioned the froaker to untie him, "Stealing is wrong," he said, handing the necklace to the surprised young man. "You are going to return that and apologize. And if you try to run."

Harry didn't say it aloud, but he was pretty sure the sparking stick in his hand got the point across.


	6. Chapter 05

Wild Waves, Wicked Women  
Chapter 05

…

The wind was high, and the sun shone gaily as the Black Gull bounced across the waves. Two days it had been, two days since they'd completed repairs to the ship, two days since they'd set sail, two days since the bard started begging for someone to kill her.

No one would and she'd cursed them all roundly for being so heartless. Even the good weather had not improved her disposition but at least it kept everyone else positive.

"Hehe, this is the funniest thing I've ever seen," Ron wailed through a stream of tears.

"Swim fishy, come on, you can do it," Merle cheered between guffaws.

Sorsha, being cool and aloof like she was, watched the absurd tableau while leaning against the newly repaired rail.

"He's doing quite well I think."

Sorsha turned an indulgent smile to the small boy, "And even if he isn't, it's fun to watch."

Mowgli didn't really understand but he smiled back. He'd found that was usually the correct response. His captors truly were more odd than even the other humans he'd encountered.

Upon being presented by the one called Harry he had been quite suddenly assaulted by the three females who had unanimously declared him to be 'cute'. They were a bit loud but at least they weren't mad, not even the hairless one he'd returned the necklace to.

Having done as the one called Harry had insisted, he had thought himself free to go. He was quickly reminded of the peculiar ways of females, the reason he had gone to wander the world in the first place, when they all agreed he would come with them.

He didn't really care for the idea, but they had insisted. Their affectionate mauling had made it difficult to resist and before he knew what had happened, he was a prisoner aboard their ship.

They insisted he was not a prisoner but since they wouldn't let him leave, he knew better.

The one called Harry asked him to indulge their whims for a time. "You can always sneak away when we make land if you like," he'd said. Which was true. He could do it from the ship as well, but it would be much simpler from the land.

He had stayed, and now, two days later, he was glad of it. Despite the unpleasantness that first brought them together the older boy was not unkind, they even shared much in common.

That was what had led to the fish. Harry the fish. Mowgli had learned to change his form at a very young age and had mastered several forms. Harry had only just learned and could only do three reliably. A squirrel, his owl, and a small canine he called a bulldog, also Ripper.

Mowgli had never seen such a beast, but it looked like it could be fearsome. That wasn't what he was working on, as his captors and the two-armed men he thought were his fellow druids' friends watched.

Fish were very different from things that flew or walked the land. Not simply scales being different than hair or feathers. The whole body was different, the way they perceived, the way they moved. Mowgli had not taken to fish quickly although he could do several now, that being how he got to the island.

Harry was currently a fish the big man called Vargas had named a Salmon. Mowgli had seen such fish before though he couldn't become one which made watching Harry an educational experience.

It was educational for Harry too, though he would later comment just how weird it was being a fish. He was floating in a bubble of water held together by his three fairies, Millet, Rue, and Thistle who'd defied her queen to come along.

Harry had asked if there'd be trouble, but she'd just hurried him along, telling him not to worry about it. He didn't. He was pretty sure if anyone would be in trouble it would be her, which likely explained her rush.

Hedwig had been helpful in his training as well, catching the fish he was now mimicking. Though how she'd managed to haul the rather sizable swimmer out of the water was still a mystery.

"Ready to get out Harry?" asked Vargas.

Harry glubbed then leapt from his aqueous bubble. Changing back was much easier than taking a form and he managed to make the shift midair, landing spryly barefoot on the deck.

"Bravo," cheered Merle sarcastically, Ron quickly joining her.

Harry blew the two a raspberry, much to their amusement, before turning to his other observers, "So, how'd I do?"

"It's a much bigger fish than any I can do," Mowgli observed.

"I rather like this shape a bit better," said Sorsha with a meaningful look.

Harry coughed and turned his head to hide his blush. It didn't work, "Get a room," Merle shouted.

"Ship Ahoy!" shouted the crow's nest.

"Huh?"

Scurrying onto the deck, the crew pushed the guards up to the helm where the captain watched the approaching ship through his glass.

"What's the outlook?" Vargas asked like the seasoned veteran he was.

"Recognize the colors," said the captain, "not the ship though."

"How many men aboard?"

The captain scowled, lowering his glass to wipe the lens, "I can't tell. There's movement but I keep catching a glare before I can make it out."

"You think they might be pirates?" asked Ron.

"What pirates?" Hermione vurped as she hauled herself up the stairs.

"Hermione! I thought you were sleeping," said Harry.

"I would be if this stupid canoe would stop bouncing all over the place."

Captain Flynn smirked, raising his glass again to hide it. He had little sympathy for the bard. Landlubbers had no business being at sea and she was not shy about punishing them for intruding.

"If they are pirates, it'll be time for you lot to earn your keep," he joked. "It's not a big ship, not even big as us. If it comes to a fight, I like our chances."

Harry listened to the captain's optimistic assessment and cringed. He might have been woefully in over his head with a flirty woman, but life-threatening danger, that he knew.

"Maybe the universe wasn't listening," he mumbled.

As if.

"Does anyone else smell that?" asked Merle randomly.

"Smell what?" asked Harry as Mowgli stuck his nose in the air.

"Not sure," she said sniffing, "strong though."

"It's coming from that way," the little wild boy said, pointing behind them.

With a look of concern, the captain turned his glass aft, "I don't… see, wait, what is that?"

It looked like open water but bent, distorted, like looking through poorly made glass. Before he could discern the nature of the oddity the crow's nest cried out, "Captain, their runnin new colors."

"What!"

"Oh shite, sir! It's The Fox!"

The captain hadn't time to curse before balls of reeking smoke sailed past and splashed into the water. Behind them the distortion rippled and vanished, a large tarp neatly rolling itself up to reveal a well-armed pirate vessel, colors flying proudly.

"It's the Feral Vixen!"

As men scampered around the deck of the Black Gull the Feral Vixen lobbed a couple more balls of putrid stench. They passed far to the stern and began throwing up a foul-smelling smokescreen.

"She's trying to blind us!"

"Can we out run her?" Harry shouted over the din of panic.

"Her, maybe," the captain shouted back, taking the wheel from his helmsman, "but that other one's not about to let us."

Several suggestions on the flammability of boats were made but all rendered moot when the ship lurched, throwing everyone off their feet, "What the hell?"

"In the water!" someone shouted.

A quick peek over the rails revealed the stinking, smoking gook had glommed on and was now dragging heavily while simultaneously obscuring their view.

"Shit! No choice then. Prepare to repel boarders!" the captain shouted, igniting a whole new flurry of activity.

They didn't have to wait long. Dragged down by their growing cloud let the Feral Vixen close the gap in minutes. They heard better than saw, the hooks catch onto the ship, and that's when everything went to hell.

A huge cloud surged over from the attacking ship, plunging everyone into an impenetrable miasma. Tactics and planning flew over the side as all ability to coordinate vanished.

"I can't see anything. Harry!"

"Over here!"

"Where's here?"

The cloud appeared to have an added effect, voices echoed from every direction, making it impossible to know where anyone was if they weren't right on top of you.

Harry discovered quickly this was no hindrance to the enemy. Narrowly dodging a sword meant to open a new hole in his neck, he fell to the floor, which turned out to be the stairs. Rolling down to the deck he lost his staff and landed in an uncoordinated heap.

Things were worse on deck as crewman struggled against near invisible enemies while trying not to stab their own or fall off the ship. Harry was almost trampled trying to get up amongst the sounds of violence and death, a feat made much harder when a foot appeared out of the murk and knocked him back to the ground.

Not satisfied with injury it returned for humiliation, slamming down on his back and digging into his chest with the heel. The narrow point of it suggested a female, though that hardly mattered. Neither Sorsha or Merle wore heels and he doubted Hermione was even on her feet which meant, pirate.

The shift was quick, near instantaneous which was good because it allowed him to just barely dodge the stab that would have punctured his heart. As a squirrel he could see no better through the miasma, but he was a much smaller target, a fact he made full use of while dodging around the deck trying to find an end or an edge to orient himself from.

What he found instead was a plush badger, working as a tripping hazard.

"Francis! What are you doing?"

"… Dunno."

It was silly to have expected more, equally silly to expect him to know where Hedwig was but it didn't stop him from asking. Having taken that moment to breath and collect himself, Harry decided to get back into the fight.

It took some effort shifting straight from squirrel to owl, but he managed it and took off amidst a harrowing hail of invisible blades. Breaking the miasma took little time. Despite its impenetrability it wasn't actually that big. It was only a moments work to figure out why.

He stood at the edge of the enemy ship, arms raised, head bowed in deep concentration over a glowing book. He was flanked by two large toughs, no need to guess why they were there, one had already sighted him with his crossbow.

The tough never saw the other owl till she ripped the crossbow from his hands and sent him hurtling into the water. The other watched impassive, but never left the wizards side.

That was good enough for Harry. He flew above the two then dove. It wasn't as graceful as he would have liked, probably the only thing to save his life from the bodyguard's sword. He diverted just in time, passing the ship and barely avoiding an impromptu swim. Hedwig joined him a moment later and together they shot skyward.

"Your stoop needs work," she said, once they'd found a spot to hover.

"Tell me something I don't know," he shot back.

"The big one has a good eye and a fast hand. We won't take him easily."

He couldn't argue with that. They'd have to go at him together, but Hedwig shot the idea down, "Too fast" she said, "even with two of us. He won't have to move much to guard."

From two birds. But he didn't have to be a bird. He had other shapes. A quick discussion, plan made, they lined up their attack vectors and dropped.

The tough saw them coming and raised his sword. At the last second Harry diverted, hitting the deck just out of sword reach while Hedwig gave him time to change. The tough had clearly never seen an English bulldog and the split-second shock cost the man as Hedwig and Harry attacked.

It was a short fight. The man was skilled but against such a combination he couldn't keep up. One wrong turn, he lost his balance, then his sword, then his pride when Harry kindly helped him into the water.

The wizard, deep in concentration was unaware of any of it till Harry put Ripper's powerful jaws to work on the man's leg. Several things happened simultaneously, the man screamed like a dying old woman, the obscuring miasma all but vanished, and all eyes turned to them.

Harry never liked being the center of attention, but he liked it even less when there were swords involved. Flinging the screaming wizard at the swords he threw himself off the ship and started doggy paddling.

Somewhere in the renewed chaos people started shooting at him. Another shift and he dove out of sight only to come across a brand-new problem. All the dead bodies in the water had attracted sharks.

Desperation fueled him and he ducked and dodged more sets of vicious teeth than he could keep track of. He managed to find a small reprieve in a grotto created by the goop dragging on the ship. Waiting till it looked safe, he shot for the surface, breaching high into the air and reverting to human form at the peak of his jump.

One hand latched onto the rail, followed by a second. Dragging himself up he slipped and almost went back into the drink save for two hands grabbing his and hauling him up on deck.

"Good to see your alive druid," said the paladin.

"Vargas!" Harry panted, "and, monkey."

The orangutan that was Mowgli gave a big cheeky grin before reverting to small boy, "Glad you made it."

So was he, "How'd we make out? How bad is it?"

"Not as bad as it could have been."

Harry scowled at the big man, "Which tells me nothing."

"It was the cargo they were after," said the captain, approaching the trio. "Druid, good to see you made it."

"How many'd we lose sir?"

"Only four on our side."

"Four!" there were a lot more than that in the water.

"For such a successful pirate, The Fox leaves a remarkably low body count," he said. "It was the cargo they wanted, and they got a fair portion of it."

"Could have been worse," Vargas reiterated.

"It is worse," said Ron, thumping up, scratched and bruised but otherwise whole. "They took Hermione."

"What!"

"The cat and the warlock too," added the captain, "for the slave markets if their lucky."

"Lucky!"

Before Harry could express how ludicrous that sounded his personal space was invaded by two frantic fairies, "Wait, what? Slow down, I can't understand either of you."

"What's their problem now?" asked Ron.

Harry listened intently to the two tiny girls, which should have been his first clue. "Millet's gone too."


	7. Chapter 06

Wild Waves, Wicked Women  
Chapter 06

…

The party was in full swing in the little pirate's cove called the Fox Hole. Their latest run had been a huge success. Sure, the wizard had gotten knocked for a loop which cut the raid short, but they'd still gotten away with a veritable treasure trove of stolen goods.

Spirits were high, maybe a little too high. There was little else that could explain the mob outside the door of their famous captain. Nothing else that could explain the brutal banging on her door. And no amount of high spirits could explain, never mind forgive, the idiotic attempt to order their captain to give up the prisoners they'd taken so the crew could, enjoy them.

Spirits dipped when the crossbow bolt went 'thunk' in the lead idiots head, followed by the door slamming shut.

"Blithering imbeciles!" the fiery maned femme griped, stomping across the room.

"Surprised you didn't let them have us," said Sorsha, sitting in the corner with a pair of glowing manacles on her wrists.

"Not that we aren't grateful," Hermione rushed to add from her spot next to the warlock.

"Don't think on it too much," said Captain Fox, setting the reloaded crossbow on the large wooden desk that took up a quarter of the room, "I 'allow' a great many things I don't care for to keep my men in line. But they damn well know how I feel about rape, and insubordination."

"Really," said Sorsha, "And here I'd taken you for a woman who enjoyed a rape or two."

The pirate mirrored the warlocks salacious smile, "Don't misunderstand. I've enjoyed my share of men, but I don't rape. And why should I, when I can make them beg for it like the pitiful dogs they are. The seduction is half the fun after all."

Sorsha tilted her head in acknowledgement, "I can respect that."

"Meonthm! Mearglebum!" Merle proclaimed, her head in Hermione's lap.

"Yur friend certainly can sleep," said Captain Fox.

"She'll wake up when it's time to go."

"Go?" said Captain Fox, "Darlin, the only place you're goin is the slave markets in Carcosta."

"Our friends will save us," Hermione said defiantly.

"First they'd have to find you, and with the mirage that hides us, their time would be better spent looking for a needle in a haystack."

"Harry will find us. He won't stop till he does," Hermione insisted.

"Then he's going to be sailing up and down the coast for the rest of his life."

…

"Drop anchor!" The great weight splashed too loudly into the water and everyone held their breath, praying they'd not been heard.

"Livin on the edge," Ron quipped.

"Uh huh," said Harry, too focused on what he was doing to pay Ron much mind.

"Any sign?" asked the captain as he thumped up to them.

"Not yet, not… huh, oh!" Harry lowered the spyglass to find his wayward fairy laying on top, peering over the end, "Found you."

The glowing girl nodded excitedly and started chattering a mile a minute, "Woah, slow down, I can't understand."

Thistle, who had helped lead them to Millet and, by extension, the pirates hidden dock, buzzed out of Harry's hair to scold the other fairy and get her story.

"What're they saying?" asked Ron.

Harry listened intently, still understanding little as Millet continued to ramble. Satisfied she had the necessary details Thistle turned and gave him the abridged version.

"Uh huh. With the captain. Outside her door. Drinking, being loud. Uh huh, how many? Well that's helpful."

The fairy just shrugged, "What'd she say?" asked the captain.

"She said there's a lot."

"We sure she can count?" She could certainly hear and glared angrily at the captain. "Just askin," he said.

Slowly, Millet gave a more accurate description of their numbers, "Fifteen outside the captain's office. Maybe fifty more wandering around, drinking mostly."

"We can certainly use that to our advantage" said Captain Flynn as he ruminated on the information.

"Whatcha think Harry?"

"We need a distraction," said Harry after a moment's thought. "Something to keep them looking the other direction while you bring the ship in to dock."

"I can do that," Mowgli piped in.

"You sure kid?" the captain asked.

The small boy nodded which was enough for Harry, "I'll go with him and find our people. Give us ten minutes."

"You sure that's enough?"

"We can't afford more," he said, "the longer we wait the more likely it is someone will see us."

"He's right," said Vargas, fully armored and looking grim. "Go now, we will follow."

With no further discussion, the two shape changers went fishing and headed for the dock, a trio of fairy's following high overhead. Swimming in the dark was a strange new experience for Harry but Mowgli seemed entirely unfazed, so he stayed on the tail of the brightly colored fish till they came close to the dock and reverted to human.

Climbing up the pilons they quickly surveyed the dock, waiting for the fairies to join them.

"Ready?" Harry asked.

Mowgli nodded.

"Good. Millet, you come with me. You two go with Mowgli. Help if he needs, otherwise stay out of sight till the fighting starts."

Another quick shift and they went about their work, the bulldog following his guide while the orangutan went to start a commotion.

Millet zipped from cover to cover, dodging the occasional stray drunk as she went. Harry, lacking wings, went about it a bit slower, crawling under things and hiding in tiny places. He felt just like a real spy which made his doggy brain all kinds of excited till he caught up to Millet and found the angry mob.

"Well, shit!" he grumbled, once again human.

The group stood outside a small building built into the rock. A single door at the front and one closed window appeared to be the only ways in or out, and they were all blocked.

He was surprised to see a familiar face, the wizard from earlier that day, arguing with one member of the mob. He was too far away to hear what they were saying, but so long as they were talking, they weren't noticing him which meant he had a moment to think.

"Is there another way in?" The fairy shook her head.

So, there was no choice, he had to go through them. Easier said than done. His staff was back on the boat leaving him without a weapon or a way to cast. And even if he could, there was no one to put between him and the pirates if his summons didn't take them out. One fairy was not going to do it, no matter how hard she tried.

He was going to have to change, change into something big. Problem, he didn't have something big. He could try to imitate Mowgli's bear, but even assuming he could get it, would one bear do the job.

Harry shook his head in irritation. If only he knew how that Chimera totem worked, he could've used that, if it wasn't in his bag back on the ship. Though thinking about the chimera, he remembered another beast. Powerful, brutal, with the frightening ability to regenerate from near any wound.

Could he do it? Would it work? Did he really have a choice? Why was he asking so many questions?

"Millet, stand back. Things are about to get ugly."

…

"That's it lads, nice and quiet," the captain coaxed as his ship pulled in to dock.

Ron stood next to Vargas, sullenly silent. The big man seemed to sense his tension, "Nervous?" he asked. Ron shook his head. He wasn't nervous, he'd been in fights before, it was just, "You've never killed another human before."

That was it, "I don't think I got anyone during that raid so…"

Vargas nodded, "You're not sure you should, or if you even can," the big man said like he was reading Ron's soul.

"You've killed before?" he asked.

Vargas nodded, "Many times," he said, "though only once out of anger. It was that death that set me on the paladin's path, atonement for what I'd done."

"I see." Kinda.

"Take heart," said Vargas. "Putting them to the sword is a kinder fate than any that awaits them should they be captured. The punishment for piracy is quite steep."

"Oh." Good to know.

"Alright, we're set," said the captain, "Vargas, Ron, you're in the lead."

Putting aside his misgivings, Ron followed Vargas without hesitation. Silently the two mercenaries led the crew past boxes and barrels, many of which looked quite familiar.

They could hear a great ruckus and easily followed it to its source. A sort of makeshift stage had been thrown together and dancing around on it was a familiar orangutan, wearing a pilfered pirate hat. On either side was a half-naked girl, teasing and come hithering and drawing every pair of eyes in their direction.

"Good distraction," Ron whispered.

Vargas turned back and motioned the crew forward just as the audience screamed in excitement.

…

"I can't believe I'm even bothering to have this argument. Do you hear that. Their all having a good time and you're standing here wasting yours."

The wizard stood before the angry crowd without fear as they growled and snarled like filthy dogs. He was easily a match for the lot of them and already had a powerful illusion ready if any of them tried anything.

"Yur magic don't scare us wizzy," said the second leader of the group. "Cap'n ain't got no right holdin 'em back."

"The captain can do whatever she wants," said the wizard. "She's the captain."

"Well maybe it's time for a new captain."

The wizard artistically quirked a single eyebrow, "That sounds dangerously like mutiny to me," he said. "Perhaps you all need to be made an example of."

A heavy thud and ominous creak made everyone jump, eyes going wide when they saw the source. Eight feet tall with patches of course hair all over its body and a small tangled mop on top of its head. Two small upward jutting tusks drew the gaze to flashing green eyes which surveyed them all with savage intelligence.

"You… you ain't foolin anyone wizzy," said the leader, two octaves too high, "yur tricks don scare us."

His bravado lasted only until the troll lay a very real, very heavy hand on his shoulder. Staring up into the ugly green face, the troll 'smiled', and the big bad pirate man did soil his shorts like a frightened little gnome.

On the other side of the door Captain Fox growled at the sudden commotion, "For Pete's sake!"

"Sounds like he's killing them," said Hermione, scooting closer to Sorsha.

"No, his school is illusion. Their just seeing things," the captain assured.

An assurance that rang a bit hollow when something was slammed against the door, "Dammit, Ironfield!" she cursed, rising from her desk and marching angrily toward the door.

She hadn't gotten far when there was another slam, then, quite unexpectedly, there was no more door, only chunks of wood.

"Son of a bitch!" she cried, frantically backing into her desk.

A huge form loomed in the doorway, the short, seven-foot frame, forcing him to stoop as he entered. Hermione made a pitiful wail at the sight of one of her childhood terror's and no sign of her friends to save her.

"Yu, you! Where the bloody hell did you come from!" the red-haired pirate screamed.

The troll scratched his chin and shrugged, entirely unperturbed.

"You! No one gets the better of Vixen Fox!" she shouted, slamming her elbow on the desk and setting off the crossbow.

The bolt slammed into the back of his hand with a meaty 'thump'. Looking at the minor piercing, he didn't so much as flinch and pulled it out like he was pulling a splinter.

Refusing to appear deterred, the pirate captain pulled her sword and swung. The troll raised its hand and caught the saber by the blade. Captain Fox yanked and pulled but the sword refused to budge.

"Let go!" she demanded.

He didn't, instead pulling it up and sticking the blade through the ceiling where it refused to be moved. "Oh! Dammit! Gah!" she cursed, anger overruling both fear and common sense as she glared defiantly at the troll.

The troll took this defiance into consideration and gently bopped the woman on the head. A brief pause, and the feared Captain Fox crumpled boneless to the floor.

The troll scratched his head, embarrassed, "Oops."

Over in the corner Sorsha snickered, reminding the troll why he was there, "Stay away! Stay away!" Hermione screamed as he approached.

"Hermione," he said.

"Why, why do you know my name?" she screamed.

"He is your friend, isn't he?" said Sorsha, "Hello Harry."

Hermione gaped, "Harry!" the troll nodded, "But, how? Why?"

"Later," he rumbled, "time to go."

"Huh, wha? Are we leaving?" asked a bleary-eyed Merle.

"Yes Merle. Time to wake up," said Sorsha.

With a yawn and a stretch, she tossed aside her manacles to better rub the sleep from her eyes.

"Wait a minute," said Hermione, "how did you get out of those?"

"Hmm? Oh, those. I could've done that any time," said the cat girl, standing up and almost running right into the troll, "Oh, uh, hi."

The troll smiled and gave a little wave.

"Do I know you?" the troll nodded, "Oh, good," she chirped, "just gimme a second and we can get out of here."

"Captain Fox! Captain Fox! We're under attack! We…" the panicked pirate stopped mid cry at the sight of the troll, looming over his unconscious captain as the manacles fell from the bushy haired prisoner.

"Seconds up." said Harry troll, grabbing the edge of the heavy wooden desk.

…

"Come on! Break through!"

The crew of the Black Gull had made the most of their surprise attack. Pushing the pirates back to a mass of empty crates and barrels where they were now at a standstill.

A good half of the pirates lay dead all around to the crewman's feet, but the tide of battle was turning now that they had their feet under them. Vargas stood at the front, singing some old hymn as he hacked and smashed. Ron remained on his wing, guarding his back and taking his shots when he could get them.

A bear roared as it swatted at the spears that kept it at bay and two angry fairies zipped daringly in and out trying to break the lines while remaining ahead of grasping hands. "We have to break through!" shouted the Captain.

"Great! How!" Ron shouted back.

A cry from above, and Ron saw Hedwig circling overhead, a small glowing shape just off her left wing. Before he had time think about it there was a loud smashing sound and a large ornate desk came flying their direction.

"Bloody hell!"

The desk crashed through a stack of barrels and into the pirates back lines. Three were crushed by the desk itself and the falling barrels took out two more while throwing the pirates whole defense into chaos.

"Forward!" Vargas sang, charging through the confusion, slashing left and right with Ron hot on his heels.

The pirates were still trying to reform their defense when a cat girl appeared in their midst and started hamstringing people. The sudden appearance of a troll broke the last of their will to fight, and those who could turned to run, only to find a lovely warlock with hands full of flame.

Screams filled the night air along with the smell of burning flesh. Which was worse? Only the nightmares know for sure.


	8. Chapter 07

Wild Waves, Wicked Women  
Chapter 07

…

There were many sounds one grew to recognize after a life aboard ship. The gentle crash of the swell against the hull. The near ceaseless call of the seabirds. And the telltale creak of the boards.

She knew it was him before the door ever opened, merely by the way he creaked the boards. The pair of wolves he'd left looked up to greet their master, tongues lolling happily. The badger he'd left snorted and turned slightly, the first sign of life she'd seen from the beast in hours.

"All's well?" he asked, kneeling to pet his wolves.

"They were perfect gentleman," she said.

"Anyone try to start anything?" Scratching behind an ear elicited a short bark and an excited wag.

"There were footsteps outside the door couple times, but none of 'em came in."

"Hmm." He had yet to look at her. He rarely did, the tease, "Hello, Captain Fox." Lifting his eyes at last the look he gave her was pure ice.

Her lips curled like the cat that got the canary, "How many times must I ask you to call me Vixen?" she purred.

He didn't answer. He was infuriatingly cold like that. It just made her burn all the hotter.

"I just came to tell you we'll be docking soon."

"I thought it sounded like we were close to shore," she said offhandedly. "So, my times up, is that it?"

"When we dock, you'll be turned over to the Order of Paladins for trial and sentencing."

"Paladins!" Normally pirates, even famous pirates, were handed over to the local authorities, a magistrate or local lord if there was interest. She couldn't help but smile, "Watching out for me druid?"

As a woman, just getting to the gallows would normally be a harrowing journey, especially with her looks. The paladins though, they took justice very seriously. If they had her, her only worry waited at the end of a rope.

"Under the circumstances, it seemed appropriate," he said, eyes conspicuously averted.

She felt a touch of heat in her cheeks when he glanced in her direction, "That's awful sweet of you." And something she appreciated more than words could express.

His silence only excited her more. There was just something about the indifferent stoic bit that set her passions aflame. She'd felt it the first time he'd walked through that door. Two of the crew had decided to take advantage when they thought no one was looking.

Rather than some hanky panky, a rough clubbing had been the reward for their daring. Since then he'd been the only person to open that door. He brought her food, checked on her, made sure the wolves hadn't eaten her.

It was an odd sort of courtship, but it suited her. Of all the men she'd ever wanted, he was the only one she wouldn't get to have. Not that it would stop her from one more try.

"So, this is goodbye, is it?" He nodded. "Then, since this is the last time we'll see each other, can I ask you for something?"

"I'm not letting you out."

"Just, a little thing," she said quietly, waiting till he looked in her direction, "a kiss, goodbye."

She saw him struggle against her entreaty. His eyes betrayed it. He wanted her. Under that veil of ice, he burned.

She extended a pleading hand, pressing her body against the bars, utilizing every feminine trick at her disposal. Slowly, he crossed the room. He took her hand in his own, and slowly, achingly, placed a gentle, chaste kiss against the back.

"Goodbye Captain Fox." The words rang in her ears long after he'd crossed the room and vanished out the door.

She stared at the door, flummoxed. Then it started, the tickle. It began in her belly, a titter, a chuckle. Before she knew it, she was laughing aloud, ignoring the wolves who looked at her like she was mad.

"That… that bastard!" she roared. "That magnificent bastard!"

She fell onto her little wooden pallet still laughing. Of all the things she'd expected, he'd managed to surprise her. "That, man!" she said with an unexpected fondness.

…

"That, woman!" Harry growled as he stomped up on deck.

"Ey Harry," Ron greeted, "have fun?"

Harry scowled at his smirking friend with no appreciation for his conflict, "I was this close Ron. She almost had me. I was across the room."

"I'd a been across the room a long time ago," said Ron.

"You and near everyone else on this ship," said Harry, "Why'd ya think I put the wolves down there."

Ron sniggered at how worked up his friend was, "You look like you're gonna explode."

"Almost Ron, almost."

This time Ron laughed aloud, "Only you mate. Only you."

Harry sighed at the lack of sympathy, "Yeah, yeah, only me."

"Aw cheer up Harry, look."

The trading town of Lexusport grew large on the horizon, a welcome sight. Along the docks, even bigger than Sleel Bay's, tiny shapes scurried around like ants, a barely discernable bustle of activity they could just make out at a distance.

"I was beginning to wonder if we'd ever get here," said Harry, watching Hedwig fly ahead.

"Tell me about it," said Ron. "Be glad to have my feet back on the ground again."

"A little longing for terra firma Ron?"

"No as much as somebody else," he replied, glancing over his shoulder to where Hermione slouched half asleep between a wall and a barrel, "Bet she jumps off before we even finish docking."

"No bet," he knew a fool's wager when he saw one. "Captain Flynn said it'll be a few days before he can sell the Kraken."

"Yeah, Vargas said it'll be a week at least before we can collect on all the pirate heads, plus you know," he said, wiggling his brow suggestively.

Harry punched him in the arm, "Guess we'll be in town a while then. Glad we got our regular pay at least."

"Big town," said Ron, rubbing his injury, "lots to see. Lots to buy."

"Try not to go too crazy."

"Wha! Who ya think you're talkin to?"

Harry stared at his friend who flashed a smile he probably meant to be reassuring. "Oh boy!" Harry moaned.

Docking without issue, both were surprised when Hermione did not jump off the boat. The crew had already begun unloading, both The Black Gull and the newly appropriated Feral Vixen, when the Paladins came to collect the former captain of the latter.

The assembled mercenaries stood by as armored men conducted the famous pirate captain with practiced professionalism. Blowing Harry a kiss before they placed her into the wheeled cage, Vixen Fox disappeared behind a paladin escort into Lexusport.

"Did she really blow you a kiss?" said Hermione, her incredulity an indication of her vastly improved health.

"She did," said Sorsha, hanging off the flustered druid, "that whore. I'm so jealous," she purred.

Cheeks burning, Harry fought to keep himself under control. No simple task what with his newly awakened sexual desires, the heated teasing of Vixen Fox, and now the amorous advances of the attractive warlock. Ron was right. He was going to explode.

Vargas seemed to notice this and came to his rescue, shuffling them all off to an inn he knew not far from the docks where they could room for the foreseeable future without going bankrupt.

They were checked in with no trouble. Having come during the slow season there was no shortage of available rooms, enough even for everyone to get their own. Not that they did. Just paid, they still weren't that well off.

Once their gear was stowed away Harry prepared himself to weather more of Sorsha's teasing advances, only to catch she and Merle on their way into town. "Just a few things I need to pick up, for later." With a saucy wink as his only hint, the warlock and the cat girl were gone.

Vargas followed shortly after, claiming he wanted to check in with his order, and Mowgli, curious to see the shiny men again, opted to go with him. Four gone, he began to think it would just be the three of them. Until Hermione declared she was going to town as well, and Ron was coming with her.

Ron grumbled a bit but acquiesced when she said she'd buy him lunch. She tried to convince Harry to come as well but he begged off, making weak excuses till she gave up and dragged Ron out of the inn.

And then it was just him… Francis and the fairies. Even Hedwig had gone to town and that was fine. He didn't need any of her mothering at the moment, he wasn't sure he could handle it. His self-control was worn a bit thin.

He'd never been accustomed to people touching him, not in a good way at least. Even the rare hug from Hermione or Mrs. Weasley had left him feeling tense, nervous. What he felt as he sat and ordered a beer from the bar was something similar but so much worse. He'd gotten his first real taste of 'good touch', and he liked it, a lot.

The nervousness that plagued him now was different but no less straining. He wanted the touch now, wanted it bad, but he knew he couldn't just take it. There were rules to consider, propriety, manners. All things those evil little women seemed intent on making him forget every time he looked at them.

He caught himself watching the barmaid's hips sway as she walked away and a telltale 'thump' from under the table had him averting his gaze with a crimson blush painted plain across his face. "Blimey, what next," he moaned. Sending up a prayer to whatever deity might be listening, he begged, "Gimme a break already."

Somehow, he got through lunch without doing anything he'd regret to the infuriatingly flirty barmaid. The fairies had abandoned his hair to play on Francis and he was beginning to think he might make it to supper when the door opened, and 'she' walked in.

He didn't pay her much mind at first, with her heavy traveling cloak and its large concealing hood, there wasn't much to look at. That changed when the cloak came off and the table again went 'thump'.

He stared openly, the parts of his brain telling him 'no' and 'don't be rude', drown out by his screaming libido. It took his last shred of self-control just to stay at the table and stare, rather than go over to the sumptuous creature at the bar.

Fortunate since with her back to him he was afforded the opportunity to drink in most of the finer details at his leisure without being caught. Not least among them the thick black mane that fell down her back to her slim, narrow waist.

The dress she wore was without shoulders, letting a tantalizing bit of skin show under the messy black hair. He was following that sumptuous line of flesh across her back and up her neck when her head turned suddenly, and quite unexpectedly he found himself locking eyes with the startled woman.

Common sense would suggest he should have looked away. Common sense however was part of the higher brain department which was all out to lunch, so Harry continued to stare. He stared when she blushed and turned away. He stared when she timidly glanced back. He stared when she slugged back some liquid courage before making her way over to his table.

"Hello." He only vaguely registered her word. It was her voice that caught his interest. Deeper than he'd expected and with the slightest rasp. It wasn't a girl's voice, it was a woman's voice.

A woman's voice that was saying things to him. Things he really wasn't understanding. But her shy glances, the nervous fidgeting, that he was understanding.

Or so he hoped when he stood, grabbed her arm roughly, and growled quietly, "I have a room upstairs."

Her breath quickened and she nodded excitedly. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he left his minions and led the beautiful woman up to his rented room.

The door was barely locked before he spun her around and attacked her lips. She whimpered submissively as he roughly ran his hands all over her body. She made no protest when he threw her onto the bed, climbing on top. Moaning and mewling, her every sound stoking his passions into a reckless blaze.

He was even pleasantly surprised when she pulled a reversal and got on top of him, attacking with the same passionate intensity he'd applied to her.

Everything seemed to be going well till she suddenly stopped and slid off the bed. The change was so abrupt he could only watch as she straightened her clothes and brushed back her hair, "Whoo! Well, that was intense."

But why did it stop? Attempting to sit up Harry found he'd been manacled and chained to the headboard, "What! What the hell. What's going on?"

"I'm just making sure you don't get away," she said. "You've caused me enough trouble as it is."

What? What did he do? "Who are you!"

"So now you want to know who I am," the woman chuckled wickedly. "Isn't that just like a man."

Harry had no idea what she meant but he was quickly coming to understand he'd made a terrible mistake. "My name is Kumbra, and no we've never met," she said, preempting his next question. "You did however run afoul one of my minions recently. About yay high, ugly as sin, tried feeding you to a chimera."

The hag! His shock must have shown because she smiled darkly at his expression, "You remember. Good. I'd hate to kill you without your knowing why."

"Kill me!" Oh shit!

"Yes. Usually I wouldn't go to the effort for a mercenary, but I've been watching you. You're surprisingly powerful, and what's worse, a compulsive do-gooder." She shook her head like the very idea was just shameful, "No, if I let you live, you'll almost certainly interfere in my plans again, and I can't have that."

Harry watched with growing anxiety as she drew a wickedly curved dagger from somewhere he couldn't see, "Though I must admit," she continued conversationally, "I expected getting you up here to be much harder, I… oh. Oh my."

As if conjured by 'harder', Harry Jr. suddenly found himself the center of attention and stood extra tall to impress. "Traitor!" Harry cursed. Now was not the time.

Harry Jr. disagreed. So, by the look of it, did Kumbra, "That looks uncomfortable," she crooned, staring at his flagpole in a way that, under other circumstances, would have been very exciting, but under the current ones was just terrifying. Maybe if she hadn't been holding the knife.

"Now just hold on a second," Harry protested.

A protest that fell on deaf ears, "Couldn't hurt, just a little," she mumbled distractedly, "there's time."

"Hey! What are you doing!" He struggled vainly as her free hand reached out to reveal his manhood.

…

"Can you believe what they wanted for these? Ridiculous!" Hermione griped as she stomped through the door.

"If you say so," said Ron, following her into the bar below their accommodations.

"These scrolls better be as good as he claimed or I'm going to go back there and ring that shop keep's neck!"

"Uh huh," said Ron, carefully remaining out of grabbing distance.

Their little shopping trip had turned out exactly as he'd feared. Like shopping with his mum, but worse. The boredom of the experience had only briefly abated when they'd stopped for lunch, which had been much too short in his opinion.

"Wonder if Harry's day was this much fun?"

But Harry was not there to ask. His fairies were there, and the cushy badger, but no druid. Hermione attempted to question the fairies, which would have been a mistake even if they didn't overtly dislike her.

In the end Ron had to get between them just to prevent a fight he was pretty sure Hermione would lose, "Maybe the barman knows," he suggested.

Hermione cast the fairies one last scowl before storming over to the bar. Ron sighed and one of the tiny girls gave him a conciliatory pat on the head. Hermione returned a moment later still scowling, "He's upstairs, and he has company."

"Company?"

Hermione nodded, "And it isn't Sorsha or Merle."

Ron groaned, "Really mate, really!" It just wasn't fair.

"Come on. I'm going to give that boy a piece of my mind. Whoring around like this, what is he thinking?"

Ron followed but not because he had much to say to Harry, and definitely not because he was curious to see what sort of bird his best mate had pulled this time. The fairy that had been patting him came along too. Maybe to protect Harry from Hermione. Maybe she was just curious too.

Ron didn't understand normal sized females all that well, he wasn't about to pretend he understood the miniature ones.

"There it is!" Glowering darkly, Hermione raised her fist to strike the door.

…

Satisfied. Being a perfectionist, it wasn't a feeling she was well acquainted with, but in the warmth of post coitus, she felt nothing less than wholly content. How novel.

"It's a pity we don't have more time druid, or I'd take you with me," she crooned. "I never imagined I'd find a man with your, talents."

The druid gave no reply, refusing to even open his eyes which streamed with tears.

"Oh don't be like that," she purred, "or I'll start thinking you don't like me."

It was fun teasing him like this. She would have continued if an angry banging at the door hadn't startled her and caused her to fall off the bed. "Ow! Dammit! Some people!"

"Harry! Harry open this door!"

"Shit!" She didn't know the voice but if they were calling him by name it could only be his party.

"Knife, knife? Where is it?"

Scrambling for her lost blade she leapt to her feet and stood over her victim, "Sorry to cut and run darling." With frantic force she thrust the blade at the helpless druid's heart.

The blade had just broken skin when there was an abrupt shift and it passed through air till plunging through the sheets and into the mattress.

"What the…"

A confused serpent coiled around her hands stared at her uncomprehending. From out of nowhere a fairy appeared, tinkling furiously at the serpent. Her diatribe must have flipped a switch because when he turned back to her it was with gaping jaw and dripping fangs.

"Shit!" She fell back as the serpent struck, lunging at her neck and missing by too few inches for her comfort.

"Harry! Harry what's going on in there!"

Cursing herself roundly Kumbra dodged another venomous strike before leaping onto the bed and retrieving her knife. "Another time lover!"

The serpent hissed, enraged, but recoiled when the outside wall exploded. Angrily he rushed into the dust and debris seeking his would-be assassin, but it was too late. Kumbra was gone.

Coiled in impotent fury he stared out the hole till his friends broke down the door and Thistle returned him to human form.

"What happened?" a panicked Hermione demanded.

Teeth clenched painfully tight, he could not say. And it would be many hours before he could, or would, say anything.


	9. Chapter 08

Wild Waves, Wicked Women  
Chapter 08

…

"Harry, you need to eat."

"Not hungry."

"Can I have it?"

Harry pushed his unfinished meal across the table to his ginger friend who started shoveling like he hadn't just eaten. Hermione scowled at Ron who paid her no mind. He already knew she disdained his eating habits, even if that wasn't why she was scowling.

Giving up on cowing the ginger she returned to coaxing her other friend, "Harry." He found it rather suffocating. She was trying to be sensitive, coddle him. It wasn't working.

It had been three days since the incident. Three days since he'd met Kumbra. Three days since he'd been raped and nearly murdered. He'd burned with white hot and ultimately impotent fury for hours after it happened, cursing everything he could think to curse, not least of which his own weakness for letting it happen.

Back then he'd been active. Planning to find her. Plotting all the horrible things he was going to do to her when he did. But it was all for naught, her escape had been clean. No trail, no sign, no hope. The fire had burned out all too quick, leaving him feeling a husk, broken, empty. For three days he'd been aimless, lethargic, drifting.

The others had tried to help. Hermione most of all and to the least effect. She didn't understand, and he hoped she never would. Ron had made a token effort at first which had been the only smile he'd cracked in those three days. After that he'd carried on like nothing was wrong. It was just as well, his attempts at sensitivity were the most insensitive thing Harry had ever seen.

It was both a surprise and a relief that Sorsha had given him his room. He may have felt like a hollowed-out log but that didn't mean he suddenly disliked the attractive warlock. But he couldn't think of 'that'. He just couldn't.

Merle too had kept a respectful distance, no longer hanging all over him as she liked to do. And Vargas, showing himself both older and wiser than the rest had simply said, "Is there anything I can do?" and left it at that.

There wasn't of course, anything he could do. Not him, not Hermione, not anyone. It had already been done and there was no changing it.

The only ones unaffected by recent events were, oddly enough, the minions and the jungle boy. The fairies understood he was in poor spirits but couldn't grasp why and carried on as they always had. Hedwig still mothered him whenever she was around and Francis… well, he was consistent.

In a tragic sort of way, he felt he understood the badger better than ever. Even with a great new world unfurling before him, he could hardly be bothered to grunt in acknowledgement. It was like the squashy badger had become his spirit animal.

"Harry. Harry!"

"Huh?" Someone was speaking to him. Hermione again.

"Harry, you need to talk to us."

And by us what she meant was her, pushy girl, "There's nothing to talk about."

He rose from the table and turned to leave only to halt at the jungle boy in his path. "We go," he said.

"Huh, wha?"

"You, I, we go now," he repeated.

"Uh, go where?" The lethargy was dragging down his mental faculties, he couldn't keep up. That or he'd missed part of a conversation.

"There is big field some miles from here. We go there. I teach you to ride animals."

"Ride, animals?" Yep. Definitely missed a conversation.

"Ride animals, in their minds," he explained. "See with their eyes. Hear with their ears. Bite with their teeth."

"Wait, you can do that?" Ron asked.

Mowgli nodded, "I teach," he said. "We go now."

The young boy's eager insistence surprised Harry, and he couldn't deny what he was proposing did sound very interesting. For the first time in three days, something was interesting.

"Alright. Let's go."

…

"Now don't be gone too long alright." Harry listened with half an ear as Hermione continued talking at him. His impromptu training trip had made her a bit frantic for reasons he could not fathom.

Mowgli was waiting impatiently, the fairies buzzing about his head mirroring his demeanor. Francis sat on a tiny sled with Hedwig perched on his back as they waited to get underway.

They'd decided to go as wolves, so they'd thrown together the sled to transport the less than swift badger. Mowgli had been quite understanding of this delay. He was not feeling the same of the current one.

"Enough!" he shouted. "You have said this all three times now. We go!"

Hermione stared in shock as the two druids and three fairies became a pack of wolves and took off bounding down the street, a cushy badger on a wooden sled following.

"Well… that's just, fine."

… Hermione

The bard sighed. She'd been doing that a lot since Sorsha had taken a seat and started filing her nails. She didn't think the girl was doing it to get her attention. She didn't think she even realized she was doing it.

Her head was down over a scroll she'd been 'reading' for nearly an hour. An hour in which the scroll hadn't been moved, not once.

She could understand trying to fill the time. All of them were as they waited for the rest of their payment. Vargas had taken to training with Ron. Merle was napping, and her favorite boy had run off to play in the woods. Hopefully sorting out his issues in the process.

She felt for him, she really did, but her own needs could not be ignored indefinitely. The itch was becoming a distraction. Just the price she paid for making her pact with the queen of all succubus.

Without her usual way to pass the time she'd quickly run out of things to do which led to her current dilemma. She was bored. Unbelievably bored. Bored enough to start something on fire just for the heck of it, or worse, "Penny for your thoughts," strike up a conversation with the bard.

She snorted in response. "Is that all their worth now?"

The warlock quirked a well-manicured brow. Struck a nerve, "I suppose I'm just thrifty," she said, carefully observing her reaction.

"Must be nice."

The terse response seemed to express her disinterest in continuing the conversation. Normally she wouldn't have pressed the issue, but she was bored, and the girls body language was screaming for attention.

"Is something bothering you?" Boy was there.

Words spewed like fire from an angry dragon, "If those 'boys' had just listened to me," fast, hot, and everywhere. "That Ron, thinks he's so smart, and Harry…" She'd clearly been holding it in for a long time because once she started, she didn't stop.

"And the books, all in this stupid elitist gobbledygook…" She had many complaints and she seemed intent on giving voice to every single thing that annoyed her, "I don't know how you can stand her, she is such a pest."

Sorsha calmly filed her nails as she listened to the bard's vitriol, waiting for the angry girl to come to the point. It was possible she wouldn't, but beneath the seeming random and endless string of grievances the warlock thought she saw a pattern forming that would likely lead to the root of the problem.

The only question was, would the girl realize it. Thirty minutes later, she got her answer. "I'm… I'm useless!" There it was. "I can't do anything anymore. Ron's right. I am just squishy meat. Useless, worthless, squishy, meat!"

She collapsed bawling into her arms, crumpling the forgotten scroll beneath them as she wailed into the table. What a basket case. No wonder she was so moody.

Sorsha mulled over the girl's tirade as she continued lamenting her uselessness. There were a few bits that didn't make sense like 'Hogwarts' and 'Greater Powers'. She'd never heard of any place called Hogwarts and greater powers could describe any number of entities she was aware of.

Pushing the unknown's aside she focused on what she did know. The bard had, at one point, been a key figure in her little trio, the one both boys turned to for help. Something which had recently changed.

The how or why was unclear, Sorsha suspected it may just be them growing up, but whatever it was, the roles had been reversed, leaving her feeling like a useless burden on her friends but too proud to admit it. This left her constantly out of sorts which she dealt with by being terse and contrary.

Simple enough, now, what to do about it.

Not that she was obligated to help. They barely knew each other. It was hard not to feel for her though, just a little, given how pathetic she was being. And, if what she had in mind worked, it could only benefit her personally in the long run.

"Now, now, it's not so bad," she cooed, stroking the girl's bushy mane.

"Yes it is!" she cried, kicking off a whole new round of waterworks.

Oh for pity's sake, "Now stop that. No one ever solved their problems by crying about them."

Something in her stern rebuke must have struck a nerve because a sudden flinch brought an end to her melodramatic wailing, tapering off into a pitiable whimper, "But, but I can't do anything. I'm just, useless."

Sorsha gave the girl a kind smile, "You're not useless, just, confused."

"Confused? I don't understand."

Obviously, "You, are too focused on what you can't do," the warlock explained. "You need to be focused on what you can do."

"But, I can't do anything. I can't do magic, have you seen those books!"

The warlock snorted derisively, "Do I look like I wasted the best years of my life buried beneath dusty old tomes just so I could learn to throw fireballs?"

The girls look of bewilderment was adorably innocent, "I still don't understand."

"Shall I explain it to you?" She nodded emphatically. "It isn't what you know, but who you know that matters." Her expression was still confused, but Sorsha could see a just a hint of curiosity peeking out, "Shall I introduce you?"

… Ron

"Keep your guard up!"

The sound of wood cracking against wood echoed through the little courtyard behind the inn. An improvement over the sound of wood smacking against flesh and all the other sounds that accompanied it.

Dancing around the defending ginger, Vargas rained heavy blows on the wooden shield with his weighted training sword. The point of the exercise was to teach the young fighter to find the opening. His success thus far had been, limited. His perseverance at least was outstanding.

"Come on boy. Going to just stand there all day?" the paladin taunted.

His earlier failures were making him overcautious, leaving him to hide behind his shield rather that take the offensive. In some regard this was Vargas fault. He'd overestimated him at first, holding back too little and bowling through the younger man which had not been his intent.

Dismayed, he saw the shield dip again and aimed a corrective strike. The shield jumped to guard at the last moment and a split second later he felt the poke in his ribs.

"Gotcha!" Ron panted.

"Bout time," the big man chuckled, "my arms were getting tired."

"Well soooooorry!"

Vargas laughed at the retort and Ron chuckled weakly, "Why don't we take a break?"

"Yeeeeeees!" Ron had no objection to this, staggering over to the nearest bench and all but collapsing.

"Need to work on that stamina," Vargas commented, dipping a metal ladle into the bucket by the well and taking a drink.

"So I've heard," he groaned through the bench.

Vargas chuckled and dumped a ladle of water over his sweating head before offering him one to drink. Ron slugged it down greedily then staggered over to the bucket for more.

"Still, not the worst I've ever seen," the big man continued. "Who trained you?"

"Man at arms," glug, glug, "at Daggerhold. We took out some goblins trying to sack the place and he decided to train me. Evil slave driver."

Vargas smiled at the young man's assessment, the hint of fondness in his tone, "Was he the first?" Ron nodded. "So, what led you down this particular path?'

Ron shrugged, "Wasn't my first choice." Taking the bucket, he dumped the rest over his head, shaking vigorously, "Whoo! It works though, ya know."

If his experience was anything to go on, "And what about your friends. Hermione doesn't seem especially pleased with her direction in life." Understatement of the year.

"Hermione, yeah Hermione, what can ya say?" Nothing nice by the sound of it. "She a, made a bad choice and, she's still kinda stuck on it I guess."

Vargas accepted the vague answer without comment, "And your druid friend, how did you come across him."

That appeared to be the right question to ask as evidenced by the way his face lit up, "If there's one thing Harry's good at, it's getting into trouble. And if there's two things Harry's good at, it's getting out of that trouble."

Interesting, "Do tell."

"We been through a lot together. Crazy stuff, I tell ya. Trolls, dragons, giant spu… Spiders! There's one thing you can always count it's Harry. Yeah."

He trailed off for a moment, lost in thought. It wasn't difficult to guess where he'd gone. "We been through a lot. Last year, that was really bad. Lot's of pressure, and he wasn't sleeping good. Kinda cranky and short tempered, not like this. This it's, it's like he's not even there. And to think, I was jealous."

Shame and concern crossed his face in equal turn. Shame for his weakness. Concern for his friend.

"Do not dwell too much on the past," said Vargas. "While it is good to learn from our mistakes, it does no good to obsess over them and forget to live. Trust me."

"Yeah, spose that makes sense" the young fighter said.

"As to your friend. I would not worry over much. He seems a resilient sort. In time he will overcome and find his strength again. With luck, the little druid will be able to help him."

"Hope so."

He continued to mope which Vargas knew to be completely unproductive, "Right, breaks over, back to it!"

The young fighter gave an overdramatic groan but didn't hesitate to step back into the ring. They were about to start when the arrival of two females halted their progress.

"Afternoon boys," the warlock greeted with a sweet smile and fluttering lashes.

"Uh, hi," Ron stammered, causing Vargas to sigh.

"Can we help you ladies?" he asked.

"We do hope so," she said, sauntering past him and up to the openly staring ginger. "Could we borrow you for a little while. Just a little while."

"Uh, well I, you, uh…" the paladin watched with some disappointment as the young fighter babbled incoherently under the power of the warlock, her feminine power that is.

"Ron," said the bard, timidly approaching the fighter, "please!"

Her bashful plea was more than his brain could handle. Putty had more consistency than he as the two women led him unresisting from the courtyard.

Vargas sighed and sent up a quiet prayer, "Give him strength," he prayed. "Strength, and stamina."


	10. Chapter 09

Wild Waves, Wicked Women  
Chapter 09

…

Green waves rolled, tall grass dancing to the wind across a wide-open field. Birds chirped, squirrels scampered, and rabbits hopped, ignoring the laughter floating along the emerald waves. It was the second day they'd been exposed to this mirth. It was no longer a surprise.

Mowgli rolled around in the grass, laughing himself sick. Never in his life had he been so entertained. Who knew teaching could be this much fun? Nearby a large man shaped rabbit searched for food amidst the tall grass. This dark-haired green-eyed rabbit was not having much luck, not being designed for such things though he didn't know that.

No, as far as he knew, he'd been born a cute little bunny and a bunny he was. At least for another ten minutes when his mind snapped back, and Harry Potter woke with a mouth full of greens.

"P'teh, ptoo, blech! Dammit! I am never eating salad again… p'teh."

An actual rabbit, sitting nearby, shook his head and blinked like he too had just woken up. He stared at Harry and Harry stared at him. "Well Mr. Hopperfield, I think we can call that an absolute failure."

The rabbit twitched his nose then bounded off into the grass.

Harry sighed and shook his head, "Yeah, I don't blame ya," he said before turning his attention to the young man wheezing and braying like a mule at his expense. "Are you quite done?'

Bad enough his mouth tasted of grass, he didn't have to laugh at him, not so hard anyway.

"I… I.. I think that was…" his attempts at speech were stifled by his irrepressible giggling.

"Take your time."

He did, and finally got it under control, "That was not so bad."

Harry quirked a brow at the jungle boy's assessment, "How you figure that?"

"You came out of the animal mind quicker. You never got past grass eating this time."

It was true and again Harry sighed, there were worse tasting things than grass, "What am I doing wrong here?"

While Mowgli considered the question, the fairies came to investigate. Harry paid them little attention as they buzzed around his head before settling in his hair. Francis toddled over a few moments later, flopping down next to Harry like a sack of wheat, only to be perched on a moment later by his owner.

Harry was feeding a bit of dried meat to his owl when Mowgli finally spoke, "You have forgotten yourself."

Harry blinked, "I hope there's an explanation following."

"Animals are simple," said Mowgli. "A rabbit is a rabbit, it doesn't think about being a rabbit it just is and knows it. It knows what it is. It doesn't doubt that."

"You're saying I don't know what I am."

"I know you have not been like you were since the exploded room," he said.

Harry chuckled at how he chose to describe the event, "Yeah, spose I haven't."

"The others say I am too young to understand. What happened to you was an adult thing and I am only a child. If they are right, it still does not matter. I do not need to know what happened to know you are lost."

For a young boy he was quite insightful. There wasn't a word he'd said that Harry could find a reason to argue with. Strange to think though, that his sense of self was less than a rabbit or squirrel.

"So what do I do oh wise one?"

Mowgli shrugged, "I am just a child," he said. "I do not understand how you became lost, only that you are."

That was fair. Stupid to think he'd have that answer.

"Are you afraid of girls now?"

"Wha…" where had that come from? "No, I'm not afraid of girls."

Mowgli nodded, "They said it was a female that did it. I was just wondering. I don't really trust girls. They do the strangest things and then look at you like their expecting something, but they don't tell you what."

That was, oddly specific, "Speaking from personal experience."

Mowgli nodded, "I followed a girl out of the jungle once. I'd never seen another person before. I was curious."

Harry nodded, stretching out in the grass. He'd been curious about a girl once or twice, "You like this girl?"

"I guess," he said. "Her family took me in, taught me to be human. They were nice but I always felt like they expected me to do something. Eventually I figured out what."

"What?" he had a pretty good idea.

"They wanted me to be like them. They wanted me to take the girl as my mate like her father had her mother. Build a house, live there and have lots of babies."

Smart boy, "But you left."

The jungle boy nodded, "She was nice, but I do not want a mate now."

"I bet she was sad when you told her that."

"I didn't."

"Oh?"

"I knew if I told them they would not understand. They were nice people, but their way was the only way they knew. They would not understand, so one night, while all were asleep, I flew away."

"Huh." Most people only thought about flying away from their problems.

"Maybe someday I will go back, when I want a mate." The young boy yawned as the little group watched the sun dip below the horizon. "Do you wish a mate?"

Harry gave a rueful smile to the incredibly blunt question, "Not right now."

Mowgli nodded and yawned again, "A mate would be nice, but not now. I will find a mate later."

'Later', Harry pondered as the little druid curled up in the grass and began snoring. Would he want a 'mate' later? Would he want one ever. Mowgli had been right when he had called Harry lost. He was lost. He felt lost.

He was still pondering that feeling when the days exhaustion finally caught up with him and he drifted off into fitful sleep.

The moon was full and bright when he opened his eyes again. The grass bent, tickling gently, demanded wakefulness. He was almost immediately aware of a presence to his right that was not the softly snoring Mowgli.

His heart leapt in his chest, veins turning to ice. He only calmed when he saw the faint trail of smoke and heard the tell tale sounds of lips on a pipe. It wasn't her. He sighed deeply.

"That was quite a sigh druid," the dark-skinned dwarf spoke between his pipe. "Troubled dreams."

"Troubled life." More than usual.

His dungeon master 'hmmed', sat quietly smoking his pipe. Not far away Harry noticed a certain unicorn grazing. He looked up at him once to let him know he saw him before returning to his business.

"He's worried about you," the dwarf said.

"Is he?"

"He's sensitive that way. Empathic. Most unicorns are but he's got it especially strong."

"Really?"

The dwarf smiled, "I can tell you're impressed."

Harry chuckled, "Sorry."

The dwarf shook his head, "Nothing to be sorry for. We've all had our bad turns. Care to share?"

He didn't, not really. Yet for some reason his mouth started talking. And talking. And talking. Words flowed like water, and bit by wretched bit he relived his flagrant violation and attempted murder. By the time he'd run out of words his fists were clenched white.

The unicorn had drifted closer as he'd recited the tale and was now barely feet away. His dungeon master sat as a statue, puffing his pipe, sentinel silent.

"Is she why we were brought here?" he finally asked, "Is she the enemy?"

The dwarf shook his head, pulling on his pipe, "No. She is an enemy, but not 'the' enemy. You haven't met him yet. You're not ready to meet him yet."

"Who is he?"

The dwarf groaned, averting his gaze, "I can't tell you that. Not yet."

"Of course." He didn't mean to be so terse, but he had little patience or understanding after bearing fresh his newest scars.

"I wish I could tell you," the dwarf said.

"Then why don't you?" Harry snapped.

His answer was not what Harry expected, "I envy you, you know."

What! "What!"

Smiling at his reaction, "It's true. It may sound strange after everything you've just told me, but it's true."

Harry stared at the foreshortened man like he was mad, "I cannot understand that at all."

The dwarf gave a low chuckle, "I don't expect you can," he said. "I've watched many young men just like you. Led them, guided them, envied them. Because despite it all, their pain, their hardships, they were still free to choose their own path."

"Doesn't feel like it," Harry grumped petulantly.

"You have shown me enormous trust since your arrival druid. Not all do. You have gone where I have directed you. Not all do. I cannot force you, that's not how the game works."

It was true what he said, trust. He had trusted him, and not for any good reason either.

"Why do it then?" Harry asked. "The guide thing I mean."

"I must. I am at the call of a greater power."

"But why?"

He smiled at Harry's persistence. A rueful sort of smile, "For the same reason we men do most foolish things. For a woman."

Harry was shocked to hear this. Not because he couldn't understand doing something stupid for a woman. That he understood painfully well. But how did a great power come into it, and just how great was this girl.

"Who is she?"

The dwarf was very quiet for a time, fiddling with one of the beads braided into his beard, "Her name was Annabelle."

"Was?"

He nodded, "I may not look it, but I am a very old man druid. Centuries old. Centuries that I've had to consider my many mistakes."

Harry couldn't even imagine, "What happened to her?"

"Time," he replied, "as it is with most things. I saved her from an impossible disease only to lose her to the inevitability that awaits all people. Exactly the sort of short-sighted thinking you'd expect from someone both young and in love."

There was something about his tone and the quirk of his lips that made Harry smile as well, "What was she like?"

He chuckled at that, "You'll think me terrible, but I can hardly remember anymore. The things five hundred years will do to the mind."

"Five hundred!" That was Flamel old.

"Indeed. I gave up my freedom, my autonomy, for a woman so long dead I can't even remember her face."

"Well, you did marry her at least, right?" he couldn't imagine going through all that and not.

"Of course. She was my first wife."

First wife? "You've had others?"

He nodded, "Four others. The last one just fifty years ago and… well, that one was noteworthy."

The unicorn felt the need to chime in which set the dwarf in a huff, "Oh hush you," which made Harry laugh out loud.

"So, I guess you're saying, this whole thing with me is kinda trivial in that perspective," he said with a look of shame.

"No, that's not what I'm saying," said the dwarf, "Though in time you may see it as such."

"I… I don't…"

The dwarf stopped him with a raised hand, "Time lad. Time gives us perspective, but we don't get to decide when."

"So in the meantime?"

"You learn to bend," he said, to Harry's consternation. "Look around you. See the grass, how tall it grows as it reaches every day for the sky. See how the wind works against them, trying to thwart their efforts by pushing them over. And yet, here they stand.

"If I have learned anything in five hundred years it is this. No matter how powerful you are, no matter how firm you may stand against the world, the world will always be stronger, always find a way to bring you low. You cannot change this. What you can change, is you. When the weight of the world presses down with all its might, bend, so that you do not break."

"You make it sound easy."

"When you can accept the things you cannot change, it becomes much easier. You can be the man who dwell's forever on all the injustices of his life, like I used to be, or you can accept them, learn, and move forward. What kind of man are you druid?"

What kind of man was he? Maybe the question should have been, what kind of man do you want to be? The answer to that one was obvious, the first one not so much. And even if it were, did he like the answer? Could he change it?

And then it hit him, like a mad bludger controlled by a 'helpful' house elf. He'd never really made the choice. He'd always let the people around him define what he was. The Dursley's had called him a burden, a troublemaker. Wizards had called him boy who lived, chosen one, hero, or the next dark lord depending on their mood. Even his friends had been more verbose on what he was and wasn't than he.

He'd never made the choice to be or not to be, (Wouldn't old Hamlet be proud). Maybe it was time he did. Well past time in fact. He opened his eyes and found a long white face staring back. He could almost sense the mirth in that twinkling eye.

It was while staring into that eye, that something strange happened. Maybe it was because he'd been trying almost non-stop for two days, but whatever the reason, he suddenly found he was staring at himself, lying on the ground staring back.

He blinked, and 'he' blinked. He raised his head and looked around. He seemed to be much higher up than usual. Looking down 'he' seemed so far away. When the realization hit, he very nearly jumped for joy. He settled for prancing about excitedly. He'd done it. He was riding.

Not wanting to waste a perfectly good opportunity, he took his ride for a canter around the meadow. A canter became a gallop became a reckless racing run. The wind whipping through his mane was pure elation, unbridled joy. Half way around the field the fairies joined him, tittering excitedly while weaving in and out of his path.

Flying overhead Hedwig hooted her presence. They were smart, his minions, they knew him no matter the form and they flew in his wake as he came back around.

Slowing his pace as he returned to his own body. Elation ebbing was replaced by a calm acceptance. He released his hold and blinked his own eyes. The unicorn did likewise, lowering his long horse face to nuzzle him gently.

"Thank you," he said.

"I knew you could do it," said Hedwig.

"Yep," grunted Francis from beneath the owl.

Harry chuckled as the fairies buzzed about his head excitedly, "Well, thank you." Suddenly realizing who he was thanking, he turned in surprise, "Wait! You're talking to me. When did that happen?"

"I talk to you all the time," said Hedwig, fluffing indignantly, "you just weren't listening properly is all."

"Yep," said Francis.

Harry stared at his owl, and when no answers appeared forthcoming, he turned to stare at his dungeon master.

"Don't look at me. I only caught half that conversation."

"She's talking to me. And I'm hearing her," he explained.

The dwarf nodded his understanding, "You're embracing your chosen path," he said. "Your powers will awaken quickly at first. That will slow as you grow stronger, eventually."

It made perfect sense, but Harry still couldn't hide his shock. When he'd first thought back to the pirate attack, the first time it had happened, he thought it was a fluke, a result of him being an animal at the time. That or he'd just imagined it.

But it wasn't. They were talking to him, and he was hearing them. "Everything's happening so fast," he said.

The dwarf chortled, gesturing to the unicorn who offered his horn and lifted the tiny man onto his back, "And it doesn't slow down either. Best catch up." And with that the two vanished across the field.

"Well now what?" said Francis eloquently putting Harry's own thoughts to word.

Harry considered for a moment before he came upon a silly idea too good not to act upon, "We need to find that rabbit."

…

The sun rose and so to did Mowgli. He'd slept remarkably well and was ready for another day of fun and laughing at Harry doing animal impressions. But when he looked for his fellow druid, he instead found a rabbit, staring at him.

Odd behavior for a rabbit, staring that way. But not as strange as what came next.

The rabbit sat up, then stood like a man on his hind legs. Pulling a tiny cane and top hat from behind his back he started his number.

"Hello my baby. Hello my honey. Hello my ragtime gal. Send me a kiss by wire. Baby my hearts on fire. If you refuse me, honey you'll lose me, and you'll be all alone. Oh baby telephone, and tell me I'm your oooooown!"

His song and dance complete he flopped back on all fours and stared like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened and rabbits always did song and dance numbers.

"Should have been a frog," said Mowgli.

A chuckle from the grass gave Harry away and the rabbit hopped over to the druid, followed by the younger one, "Morning," he greeted.

"Like our little routine?"

Mowgli smiled. Yes, he had, "How'd you get him to sing?"

"I had a little help," gesturing to the fairies in his hair who waved happily.

"You found yourself then?"

Harry nodded, "I just had to make the choice," he said. "So, ready to head back?"

Mowgli sighed, "I guess," which just made Harry laugh.

…

It was after lunch when they returned to the inn at Lexusport. Sorsha was the first to spot them as they walked in with Harry's ever-expanding menagerie. Sitting with Vargas and Ron who looked to be asleep with his head on the table, she waved them over, throwing Harry a wink in the process.

"So, the prodigal sons return," quipped Vargas.

"Nice to see you too dad," Harry shot back, earning a smile from the big man.

"Good to see you in a better frame of mind."

"Who's your new friend?" asked Sorsha.

"This is Mr. Hopperfield," said Harry, holding up his new rabbit, "of the green meadow Hopperfield's."

The warlock and the paladin chuckled which roused the sleeping ginger, looking around in bleary confusion before spotting Mr. Hopperfield, "Bunny."

Harry snickered, "Hello Ron."

Still addled by sleep, Ron looked at the rabbit strangely, "Harry? Why are you a bunny?" The table erupted into laugher causing the ginger to look around bewildered, "What?"

"You'll have to forgive him," said Sorsha, "he hasn't been sleeping much recently."

Before Harry could inquire on the reason, it decided to present itself in a sing songy voice, "Roooo-nald."

Ron visibly tensed under the hand that stroked his hair. Harry just stared, gob smacked by what he saw, "Hermione?"

The shave headed female's face lit up, "Harry!"

At startling speed, she went from standing over Ron to sitting in Harry's lap hugging the daylights out of him. "You're back! I'm so glad! I was worried!"

Harry sat with a girl in his lap feeling very confused. What the heck had happened while he was gone and why did her chest feel more 'squishy' than he remembered.

"Harry, where did this rabbit come from?"

"I pulled him out of a hat."

Hermione gave him a wry smile, "Well you must be feeling better." Hopping off his lap she sauntered back to Ron, "Sorry to kiss and run, but I need to borrow Ron for a little, something."

Face down on the table Ron gave a pitiful whine but to no avail. With surprising strength, she dragged him, weakly protesting, off his chair and up the stairs, "But I'm tired," was the last thing they heard before the door slammed shut.

The men stared after the exhausted ginger while Sorsha sat there trying her hardest to look innocent, "Alright. Anyone wanna fill me in on what I missed?" said Harry.

Neither the warlock or the paladin rushed to answer.


	11. Chapter 10

Wild Waves, Wicked Women  
Chapter 10

…

The gold was hot and heavy, he'd be well and gladly rid of it. His men had all been paid, the money left in his old sea chest belonged to the sell swords. That mad bunch, the ones almost solely responsible for the payday his sailors had just enjoyed.

It was early morning and the streets were just beginning to show signs of life, but his eyes darted in paranoid fashion to every dark alley and suspicious shadow. The gold was hot and heavy, sinfully so. Men had been killed for far less.

He dragged the chest down the streets of Lexusport with all haste. He'd be well and gladly rid of it. If any of his crew were sober enough to see straight he'd already be there.

Dammit all, this was no way to start a day thought Captain Flynn, huffing and puffing down the street.

…

Breakfast with friends, it really was the only way to start a day in Harry's opinion. And it was certainly nice not being the one fighting to stay awake for once.

Ron had black bags under his eyes as he inhaled his food with more than his usual gusto. Hermione sat next to him looking far more chipper than he'd seen her since the Yule Ball. And thanks to Sorsha he now understood why.

Also, why Hermione felt more squishy, because she was. One of the perks to contracting with the Queen of the Succubus. He did feel a little bad for Ron being the sacrificial bitch, but only a little. He had agreed after all.

When he'd asked Sorsha about the details of the contract, she'd just shrugged and said it wasn't the same as hers. Inquiring to the nature of hers she'd given a wink, a wiggle, and disappeared up the stairs.

Harry had followed, but not right away. The boyish excitement that once had driven him to the chase had been tempered by fear, and patience, but mostly fear. He was still nervous when he joined her in bed, but she was very understanding and let him set the pace at first.

Right up to the point she declared, "Enough foreplay!" and jumped on him. Apparently going without for a prolonged period made her 'itch' a very literal thing which only got worse if she tried to ignore it.

Getting the details after that had been easy, once he got past the mewling and whining for him to just, "put it in!" He'd satisfied her carnal needs and they'd fallen asleep wrapped together, sticky with sweat. Upon waking he found himself feeling truly refreshed. A stark contrast to Ron who had shambled down to the breakfast table, or Mowgli who'd spent all night chasing rats and was asleep with his face in a bowl of porridge.

"Nice to see everyone so energetic this morning," Merle chirped with her usual vim and vigor.

"A beautiful start to a beautiful day," Hermione agreed, which made Harry shake his head in wonder.

He wasn't sure about this new Hermione yet. Even less sure about her signing a contract with a demon. He just hoped she knew what she was doing.

"Ahoy!" someone shouted from the door. "Somebody come help me with this damn thing!"

Harry and Vargas took the heavy chest from Captain Flynn who staggered to an empty chair and collapsed, panting.

"And a good morning to you too captain."

"Don't sass me kitty cat, that thing weighs more than you do and I carried it all the way from the merchant headquarters."

"I trust this is our supplementary pay," said Vargas.

"if it's not, I'm gonna be mighty sore at someone."

"Sounds like you're gonna be mighty sore anyway."

The captain glared at the mouthy feline, so she decided to hide behind Harry, "Protect me."

"Yeah, yeah I'll do that," because she totally needed it.

Captain Flynn shook his head at her antic's, cracked his back and tossed Harry a small key from his pocket, "Open'er up."

The chest held several lumpy sacks, each with a small tag, "You labeled them?"

The captain waved dismissively, "Different contracts, different kill counts, different pay out. Yours was the biggest druid, seeing as you were the one that brought The Fox in. She was worth more than all the rest put together."

"Notoriety," Vargas remarked, taking the bag with his name on the tag. "Hm, more than I expected."

"That'd be from the Kraken. While I was arranging the sale, some rich wiz came in and offered to buy the whole thing for double the price I was being offered."

"Double!" said Sorsha.

"Why would he do that?" asked Hermione.

Captain Flynn shrugged, "Don't know, didn't ask, wasn't interested. The only thing I cared about was the color of his money. Once I'd seen that I was more than happy to be rid of the thing."

Given the way it smelled it was no wonder, "Mowgli's got one too?"

"Huh?" said the jungle boy, pulling his face out of his porridge.

"Seemed fair," said the captain, "he was a part of that raid after all."

Mowgli was thrilled at his new-found wealth. Not because he understood the value of what he'd gotten, he just liked the, "Shiny!"

Payments were quickly tossed to their respective recipients, Ron being a bit slow yet, was knocked flat on his back by his, "Better sit him up before he decides to go back to sleep."

At the very bottom of the chest, the largest bag was marked for Harry. He was a little embarrassed when he groaned lifting it out but was glad to see Ron's green-eyed monster hadn't surfaced. Could be he was just weighed down by Ron's raccoon rings, poor bloke.

"And that concludes our business," said Captain Flynn, hauling himself to his feet and collecting his chest. "Ladies, gentleman, kitty… been a pleasure working with you."

Left with they pay the group was quiet a while as they wondered, or in Ron's case, slept on, their money. Unsurprisingly, it was Merle who suggest their obvious course of action, "Well, time to go shopping."

Even asleep, Ron groaned at the prospect which made Harry chuckle. The older mercenaries decided to take their new protégé's and show them the proper way a member of their profession handled money.

Sorsha took Hermione though not before giving Harry a wink and a whispered promise of a special surprise that night. Vargas half carried the barely conscious Ron off to the armorer, which left Merle, Mowgli, and Harry.

Not wanting to leave anyone behind he packed his gold away, put Francis on top to 'guard' it, but when he went to collect Mr. Hopperfield, he found the rabbit summarily snatched from his hands by an overexcited cat girl, "I'll carry him."

Harry looked at the grinning girl suspiciously, "You better not eat him."

"Eat him!" she cried, genuinely horrified. "How could you eat something this adorable."

"Go hungry for a week," suggested Mowgli.

Logistics established, they headed for the markets. It was Harry's first time in an open-air market, Mowgli's too, and they both stared like a couple slack jawed tourists. It was a bit intimidating but also exciting, like his first time in Diagon Alley. Wisely he waited for the experienced shopper, Merle, to guide them.

So, of course, it was Merle who ran off first, chasing some alluring scent and leaving the two boys behind. Mowgli went next, vanishing before Harry had even stopped shaking his head at Merle.

"Well, I guess it's just us then."

"Yep," snorted Francis, stuffed snug in his pack. The fairies tinkled excitedly, and Hedwig sat quietly on his shoulder observing everything.

Apparently, a man with a lovely owl, pack badger, and hair full of fairies was not the strangest thing the market had ever seen because no one so much as batted an eye as he went from stall to stall, inspecting, browsing, and even buying.

He'd never been much into material things, not in terms of quantity at least. He just didn't see a reason to have large amounts of stuff. If Dudley was any example it certainly didn't amount to much but a pile of junk eventually.

That didn't stop him from buying a standard bag of holding, 4x larger on the inside. A traveling potioneer's kit which included a book with the seven most common potions for people on the road. And a canteen that magically filtered any water put in it. He may not have been a seasoned merc, but he wasn't stupid.

It was after lunch and he was washing down the last of his meal while cleaning up the remains of everyone else's that he spotted a stall he'd not yet visited. The man in charge was sitting on a stool whittling, making no effort to hawk his wares, whatever they might be, which made him stand out amongst all the energetic salesman around him.

Curious, Harry collected his pack, and badger, and went to investigate. The man didn't even look up till the shadow fell over him and Harry was standing right in front of him.

"Afternoon," he greeted with little enthusiasm, "can I help you?"

"Well, that's the question," said Harry, "You didn't look terribly busy, so I thought I'd come see why."

The man grinned as he continued shaving the piece of wood in his hand, "Mine are not the sort of product that fly's off the shelves."

"And what, precisely, is the nature of your product?"

"What's the sign say?"

Harry examined the elaborate sign but could not make heads or tails of the lettering. This reminded him of one of Hermione's earlier complaints, "Should I assume you're a wizard?"

"Should I assume, you can't read the sign?"

"Yes." He felt no shame admitting it. Though he was curious to see if the wizard would try to make him now that he'd confessed.

The wizard just smiled, put away his whittling, and then turned the sign around. 'Magical Towers' it read.

"Usually little point trying to sell to those that can't read the other one. Aren't many folk outside a wizard that have a need, never mind the capitol, for a mobile tower."

"Mobile? How do you make a tower mobile?" It couldn't be as simple as putting wheels on it.

The answer, "Magic," was about what he should have expected.

"Wow. That really is the most annoying answer." He felt a little bad for using it himself.

The wizard merely chuckled, "Couldn't resist," he said. Reaching into a large box he drew out a smaller box with a clasp on the side and a handle on the top. Flipping the clasp, he opened the box revealing a miniature tower. If not for the intricate detail, he would have thought it some sort of child's toy.

"Wizards have been building towers for ages," the man said. "Building and abandoning them. There's actually an instruction manual in the Collegium library with step by step instructions for a number of tower types, wood, mudbrick, stone.

"Of course, not every wizard has the time or specialization to build their own tower. And many are too mobile themselves for a normal tower to be practical. That's where I come in."

"Let me guess. You did specialize in building towers," Harry guessed.

"Among other things," he said. "I've also traveled extensively, claiming and refurbishing already abandoned towers. The trick is avoiding the haunted ones. More trouble than their worth."

Given his own experience with a certain poltergeist he could totally understand, "So, it's shrunk?" he nodded. "Demonstration?"

His cocksure grin told Harry the man had been hoping he'd say that. Pushing aside the curtain at the back of his stall he walked up to a large stone slab, placed the tower at the center and then hurriedly got out of the way.

The tower sprang upward like a tree growing in fast forward. It took only a few seconds for the tiny tower to grow into a full two-story structure, "Whoa!"

"Impressive, yes? Why don't we have a look inside."

It was two steps up to the door and into the tower, "It's not furnished," the man explained as they strolled into the very empty room. "Never known two wizards who furnished their towers the same, so I sell that separately."

More money that way too.

"Course there are certain features already included, the kitchen for example."

It was at the far end of the first room. One large cupboard stood next to a stairwell and bookended the simple magic stove and oven.

"All these are magic powered and tied to the main warding stone which feeds everything from the cooling and stasis spells of your food storage units to the resizing spell that shrinks and unshrinks the tower."

"Impressive," at least he thought it was. He'd certainly never seen anything like it.

"We also have a separate potioning space, since mama always said, 'don't brew where you bake'."

The main kitchen was separated from the potion area by a long marble counter. Harry recognized the setup as almost identical to the one Simon had used. The man did say there was a book.

"And if you'll just follow me upstairs." A quick jog up the bending staircase brought them to the second floor and a single hallway with a window at the end and two doors on either side.

"The upstairs is currently sectioned into four, though that can be easily adjusted."

"Are the rooms soundproofed?"

"Uh, no more than stone walls usually are."

That wouldn't be enough, "Can they be?"

"I could modify a bubble of silence easily enough, I think. And of course, the whole tower is protected from scrying which for most traveling wizards is almost a necessity."

"I'll bet." Now if only he knew what scrying was. He'd ask Hermione later, "You said something about furnishings."

"Ah, indeed. I have a whole case of pieces to help customize any tower."

"All shrunk of course."

"Well, it does save space."

The two trekked back down the stairs, the wizard regaling Harry on all the benefits of towers and the quality of his products, but Harry was barely listening, his mind was already made up. He had no interest in things, but this was no mere thing. This was home. This was something he'd wanted his whole life, and he was finally going to have it.

Let the haggling begin.

…

It was early evening when everyone finally returned to the inn. Ron and Vargas were the last to arrive, the reason for which was as plain as the plate on his chest, "New gear, nice."

Ron blushed a Weasley red as everyone admired his new armor. It wasn't full plate, just the torso and arms. Beneath the plate was a mail shirt with its own hood and a cloth lining inside.

"The smith was some kind of wizard, he fitted it all to me," Ron explained as he tore into his dinner. "Got a helmet too, just don't see no point in wearin it right now."

"I thought you wanted a new sword," said Hermione, wearing the fruits of her own shopping excursion and drawing a great deal of attention as a result. Gryffindor red will do that, as will a bounteous pair of boobies. She had both.

"It'll wait. One I got works fine," he said with only a hint of sullenness.

"Couldn't afford it, huh?" said Merle, making his ears turn red.

"Was the armor really that expensive?" said Hermione.

"Good armor always is," said Vargas, "and magical fitting is never cheap."

"More expensive than what you're wearing," added Ron.

"Hey! I'll have you know this was quite expensive," she declared.

"For that little material," said Harry, eyeing the slit in the skirt, "I think someone needs to learn to haggle better."

Hermione blew him an indignant raspberry and the whole table cackled.

"You'll be so ashamed to know I paid even more for mine," said Sorsha, "and there's even less of it."

"I don't think they know how to shop properly," Mowgli whispered to Harry.

"You might be right," Harry whispered back. "I see you made the most of your time."

The nearly naked jungle boy was now less naked, having acquired a leather vest and belt with a pouch on each hip. The eye-catcher though was the golden snake coiling around his arm.

"This will be harder to lose than the coins," he explained.

"A lesson most mercenaries learn," said Vargas, displaying several large gold rings, "it's always safer to wear your savings."

"I'll have to remember that when I have any money again," said Harry.

"You spent all that!" Ron was shocked.

"And you were giving me a bad time," said Hermione.

"Uh huh," said Harry, "and for your information, I have enough for us to stay here another week. After that we're gonna need to find work again."

"So, what did you get?" asked Mowgli.

"A few odds and ends," he said, "new bag, and a little place to hang my hat."

That was the bit he was particularly proud of, though Merle had to point out the obvious, "But you don't wear a hat."

He couldn't exactly argue with that, "And where did you disappear to."

Merle averted her eyes and looked extremely guilty, "nowhere."

Sorsha groaned, "Merle! Again!"

"It wasn't my fault. You don't know what they do to me. I was weak!" she cried.

"The bloody hell is she on about?" asked Ron.

"Sticky buns!" she purred with an almost religious reverence.

Harry shook his head, "I hope your afternoon wasn't to traumatic Mr. Hopperfield."

The rabbit twitched his nose, "I'm fine. But I'm not so sure about the baker."


	12. Epilogue

Wild Waves, Wicked Women  
Epilogue

…

There was nothing worse than silence when you couldn't sleep. It gnawed at your sanity, warped all sense of time. Minutes became hours, hours became eons.

Captain Vixen Fox sat in her little cell listening to her guard quietly snoring not ten feet away. The whistling of his nostrils was the only sound, her only reprieve from the silence. The silence and her own pointless thoughts.

She knew it would happen eventually, she'd made peace with that long ago. She knew her fate waited at the end of a blade, she'd just always hoped it would be an enemies, not an executioners. Truth be told they probably wouldn't behead her, hanging was standard for piracy. Of course, she was no ordinary pirate so they might decide to get creative, draw and quarter maybe.

Lost in the unproductive thought loop, she didn't notice anything was amiss until the guard fell silent, his snoring ceasing suddenly and for no apparent reason. She looked around the small room but could find nothing out of place, even the guard had not moved and looked to still be snoring. A chill ran down her spine. What strange magic was at play?

Her answer melted into view and she stifled a gasp, unsure if the silence worked both ways, "Ironfield," she whispered.

"Captain," he said, bowing politely," you needn't be concerned. He cannot hear us."

That was all she needed to hear, "Salt my tits man, I thought you were dead!" she exclaimed.

"Very nearly," he acknowledged. "That troll knocked me a good thirty feet. I was in bad shape but managed to hide myself."

"But how did you get here. Don't tell me you managed to hide aboard one of those ships."

He shook his head, "It is to another I owe both my survival and presence here."

"Another?" She didn't like the sound of that.

"She would speak with you," he said, waving his hand, revealing a woman with wild dark hair.

"The infamous Captain Fox. I am honored."

The infamous pirate captain doubted that, "And you are?"

"Kumbra," she replied. "And I have a proposition for you."

Staring at the woman suspiciously, "I'm listening." Like she had any better options.

… Author's note

The plot thickens, and the story continues, next week in "Encounter Random?". See you there.


End file.
